


Familiarity Breeds

by XiuChen4Ever



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Elementals, Familiars, Literal Magic Babies, M/M, Mages, Mpreg, Non-traditional Mpreg, Shapeshifting, Unplanned Pregnancy, magic pregnancy, parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-17 23:37:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 31,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21518323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XiuChen4Ever/pseuds/XiuChen4Ever
Summary: Minseok hadn’t set out to become a father.  He’d just set out to become the best mage he possibly could, and that meant taking a familiar.  Taking a familiar meant bonding with that familiar, and evidently that’s how half-familiar babies are made.
Relationships: Byun Baekhyun/Do Kyungsoo | D.O, Cha Hakyeon | N/Jung Taekwoon | Leo, Kim Jongdae | Chen/Kim Minseok | Xiumin, Kim Jongin | Kai/Park Chanyeol, Kim Junmyeon | Suho/Zhang Yi Xing | Lay, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 77
Kudos: 298
Collections: #BabyMakingFest2019





	1. Preconceptions

**Author's Note:**

> **Prompt Code:** BMF244  
>  **Pairing:** Minseok/Jongdae or Jongdae/Minseok  
>  **Carrier:** Any _(A/N: Jongdae)_  
>  **Pregnancy:** : Post pregnancy _(A/N: I actually included before and during pregnancy, too)_  
>  **Babies:** More than one  
>  **Prompt:** Mage Xiumin and his familiar Chen don’t have it easy with their children.  
>   
>  **Author's Note:** Dear prompter, all you asked for was mage Minseok and familiar Jongdae dealing with their magic kids, but I couldn't jump into the 'middle' of their story like that. I had to go back to the beginning, before they even met, and give you the entire thing. If you're truly uninterested in the progression of their relationship/coping with pregnancy, please feel free to jump to the last chapter for the cute kiddo goodness. Either way, thanks for sending my brain on this magical journey!

Minseok studies himself in the mirror, straightening his bow tie again as though having perfect formal neckwear will give him the poise and confidence he’s supposed to already have. The bright blue stands out against the white shirt and black waistcoat just as it’s supposed to, marking him out as a mage rather than one of the other three types of magicfolk trained at the Academy. 

He knows he looks reasonably good—puberty had transformed him from chubby to stacked at the cost of ravaging his skin for a few years, but at twenty-one, most of that has cleared up. He’s lined his wide dark eyes to keep attention there rather than on his still faintly-scarred cheeks and styled his black hair to fall into his face appealingly. His suit is well-tailored but he still wishes he were wearing his armor instead and facing some fire-breathing menace to kingdom and countryfolk. Alas, tonight he must face the far more intimidating Magic Match Ball.

“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to, sweetie.”

Minseok turns to give his gentle-hearted parent a smile. “I have to go if I want the best shot at meeting a complimentary familiar,” he says as much to remind himself as his parent. “The Institute’s graduating class this year is supposed to be exceptional, and I want the best, Papa.”

“You deserve the best,” his Papa says, encouraging as always.

Minseok gives himself one last nod in the mirror before grabbing his jacket and heading out of his bedroom and down into the foyer. His Papa follows him to the Gate that’s humming with banked energy, moving to give Minseok’s other father a kiss where he stands beside the gilded copper arch.

“You look good, Son,” Minseok’s more stoic parent greets. 

“Thanks, Dad,” Minseok says, accepting a handshake from the other man who raised him. 

To a Mundane, it may seem strange that Minseok bears some resemblance to both of his male parents, but mages are especially good at creating what the magic community lovingly calls “cauldron babies.” Water is life, after all, and so Minseok’s mage parent had worked the elaborate rituals required to imbue an aqua vitae-filled copper kettle with the essence of both himself and his witch husband. Both parents had nurtured the resulting zygote as it grew into an embryo and then a fetus that would finally be mature enough to remove from the kettle. 

That well-loved baby had grown up to be Minseok, but Minseok feels far from ready to be grown up.

“Remember your checklist,” Minseok’s Dad says, always organized and orderly. Minseok had inherited that trait in no small measure from his more down-to-earth parent.

“Having standards is important, but don’t ignore your intuition,” Minseok’s Papa adds. 

His more adaptable mage parent is constantly reminding his more rigid family members to go with the flow, but it’s a sentiment mostly lost on both of them. Witches are notorious for being slow to change and while Minseok may have inherited the magical aptitude of a mage, he’d done so in the most rigid way possible. Where his Papa conducts water and his Dad commands stone, Minseok calls forth ice.

It’s a family joke that Minseok is the perfect balance between his parents. As the graduate-to-be squares his shoulders and steps through the Gate to the Academy’s grand ballroom to attend the event that will have a large influence on his future, Minseok hopes that’s enough.

  
  


“I’m going for a tall one.”

“I don’t care how tall he is as long as he’s big between the legs.”

“That’s why I’m going for a tall one—they’re the best endowed.”

“There’s no actual proof of that.”

“I just want a nice one.”

“Nice? Would you still want nice even if it came with a tiny dick?”

“Yes. Because nice is more important.”

“Yes. Because I want to top, anyway.”

Laughter fills the bus. 

“Yeah, keep dreaming. There is no way any magicfolk would tolerate taking dick from an elemental instead of throwing it.”

“Which is why I want a lady.”

A snort. “Good fucking luck with that—you only have a one in ten chance that any magicfolk you meet will be both female  _ and  _ interested in guys.”

“One in ten isn’t zero.” 

“Pfft. Might as well be. What about you, Jongdae?”

Jongdae blinks, dragging his eyes from the scenery passing by the bus window and focusing them on the boy beside him. 

“Hmm?” he says, vaguely aware that his best friend had stopped talking about dicks and asked him a question. Probably about dicks.

“What kind of magicfolk are you gonna go for?” Baekhyun’s eyes are sparkling, his face practically glowing with excitement.

Jongdae scowls. “None.”

Baek rolls his eyes. “Yeah yeah, you’re a free-the-familiars, this-is-a-school-not-a-meat-market, strong independent elemental that don’t need no magicfolk, but seriously, Jongdae. You must have  _ some _ preference, seeing as you actually  _ do _ need a magicfolk.”

Jongdae sighs, well aware that his choices are between enslavement and insanity. It’s a cosmic fuck-you that he’s an elemental rather than a human, meaning his choices are to live in the equivalent of a hippie commune with his own kind or like a songbird beneath the sea amongst the humans. It’s a further right-in-the-eye that he’s not a moderately-potent untethered elemental, but the stronger kind that are made far weaker by the pull they feel toward magicfolk and the ability—and the need—to twine their essence together with a compatible one. 

If Jongdae chooses to ignore the pull and refuse to bond, he’s doomed to an unsettled existence, even more out of place among his own kind or the magicless Mundane humans. It would be torture to remain near magicfolk he couldn’t or wouldn’t bond to, and he’d be incredibly likely to go feral, the intensity of his especially-potent elemental power driving him mad like a rabid dog if unmodulated by a bond. And just like a rabid dog, the rest of the magic community would have a responsibility to put him down.

As soon as he’d been able to understand that he both needed to bond and what exactly that meant, Jongdae had become immensely bitter. To have his existence depend on another’s, to be powerful as well as powerless in the hands of whatever magicfolk was lucky enough to claim him, is so distasteful an existence Jongdae hasn’t fully decided if it’s truly better than going mad and being terminated.

But his best pal is about as ignorable as an ember behind an eyelid, meaning Jongdae has to come up with some sort of reply, pretend there’s a circumstance under which he’d happily be enslaved.

“Uh. It’d be great if someone didn’t actually want me for my magic, but just because their parents expect them to bond and they don’t want to disappoint. Like all those fake-dating dramas you rot your mind with. Maybe they’d just spend all their time in some tower researching or something and let me live my own fucking life.”

There’s a beat of silence, then the bus erupts with laughter.

“No, but, for real,” Baek chortles.

Jongdae shrugs. “Independence is the only thing I care about. A ‘nice’ captor is still a captor.”

The laughter trails off and an uncomfortable quiet settles over the group of students.

“There’d fucking better be booze,” someone murmurs, triggering a few awkward chuckles and allowing the background conversations to resume.

  
  
  


Minseok is relieved to see two familiar faces as soon as he steps into the ballroom. Junmyeon and Hakyeon, his closest friends all through school, are chatting by the elegant fountain in the eastern corner. Minseok shuffles to join them, trading looks somewhere between apprehension and excitement.

They exchange nods of greeting, widening their little clump to include Chanyeol and Kyungsoo when they walk over a minute later.

“Everyone excited?” Chanyeol asks, towering over the rest of them. It’s just as well that his bow tie is sorcerer’s red, because the tower needs an alert for low-flying craft and airborne cavalry.

Junmyeon and Hakyeon nod and smile but Kyungsoo joins Minseok in giving the more enthusiastic trio deadpan looks. 

“You two need a familiar the most,” Junmyeon declares, looking back and forth from the glazed-looking Minseok to the glaring witch beside him.

“I’m only here because my moms made me,” Kyungsoo glowers over his green bow tie. “I’m staying for an hour and then I’m gone. I can delve just fine by myself.”

“Well, I can’t be a good battlemage without a powerful familiar,” Minseok sighs. “I have no idea why the matchmaker said I needed someone with ‘the energy of air’ though. I have plenty of energy.”

“You’re too grounded,” Chanyeol says. “You rely too much on logic instead of instinct, and the monsters you want to fight aren’t logical.”

“They are predictable, though,” Minseok defends. “Having a rational plan of attack is only smart.”

“You are the least flexible mage I’ve ever met,” Chanyeol rebuts. “As soon as the monster deviates from what you expect, you won’t be able to adapt.”

“One of my dads is a witch,” Minseok reminds him. “Given that, I’m plenty adaptable.”

Kyungsoo snorts. “Minseok, I’m a witch and I’m way more malleable than you are.”

“But you were raised by a mage and a wizard. You weren’t given a choice about learning to bend.”

“Evidently I’m too cold, though. The matchmaker said I needed ‘someone warm to make my future bright,’” Kyungsoo scoffs. “Whatever—I’ll just get a space heater and a headlamp like a Mundane miner.”

“You shouldn’t ignore their recommendation,” Chanyeol chides. “They weren’t lying when they said our familiar is meant to balance us. I’m supposed to find someone to help me slip into shadow.” He looks at the other two mages. “Who are you supposed to find?”

“Someone to help me grow,” Junmyeon grumbles. “I’m pretty sure they were just calling me short.”

“You’re taller than Min and Soo,” Chanyeol points out. 

“I’m evidently not tall enough, either,” Hakyeon adds, though he’s taller than everyone in their group apart from Chanyeol. “I told them I wanted to be a weather druid and they told me that ‘to reach the sky I must embrace the stone.’” 

“Well okay then,” Minseok says as the buglers assemble on either side of the red carpet to announce the arrival of the guests of honor. “Let’s get ready to air out, warm up, hide in shadows, grow the fuck up, and hug some rocks.”

Hakyeon huffs beside him. “Here’s hoping, anyway.”

  
  
  


Jongdae only gets about three steps into the giant fancy-ass ballroom before his best friend grabs his hand and hisses “Do your wingman thing, birdbrain!” 

Then Jongdae is hauled over to a group of five probably-pompous magicfolk. Their bow ties declared them to be three mages, a sorcerer, and a witch, just as Jongdae’s yellow necktie labels him as an air elemental and Baek’s red one marks him out as one of fire.

And he’s guessing fire is what’s on Baekhyun’s mind, because he sidles up to the guy in the red bow tie, the tallest of the magicfolk (and, per rumor, the most likely to be well endowed).

“Hey big guy,” Baekhyun purrs. “You looking for someone to light up your life?”

“Uh, no actually,” the sorcerer says, sounding apologetic. “I’m evidently looking for a shadowy guy.”

Baekhyun pouts, then glares at Jongdae as if this were his fault. “Ugh, fine. Let’s go somewhere we’re appreciated.”

“Uh, I think Soo’s looking for a fire elemental, though,” the sorcerer offers. Then his large eyes flick to Jongdae. “And Min needs the power of air.”

“I’m not looking for anyone,” the one with the green bow tie says, scowling up at the sorcerer.

“Neither am I,” Jongdae adds, causing one of the mages—a guy with wide cat-like eyes set in a heart-shaped face—to nod once before redirecting his gaze from Jongdae to the marble floor.

“Right, we’re done here,” Baek declares, grabbing Jongdae’s hand and tugging him away.

“Too bad you’re too good to bond with a magicfolk,” Baek comments as he leads Jongdae through the crowd toward his next quarry. “That little mage was gorgeous.”

“A gorgeous captor is still a captor,” Jongdae shrugs although he has to admit his friend is right.

That little mage would have been his own quarry for the night if he’d met him at a bar or a casual party instead of the lavish, upscale slave market that the Magic Match Ball actually is.

  
  
  


“Well, that was entirely cringeworthy,” Junmyeon comments when the pair of chaotic elementals have disappeared into the crowd once again. 

“That fiery guy looked about ready to climb Chanyeol like a tree until Yeollie shut him down,” Hakyeon chuckles. “And it’s a shame that intense little air elemental was off the market, Min. He definitely looked ready to kick monster ass.”

“Or magicfolk ass,” Minseok mutters. “I’m looking for a partner, not an opponent.”

“At least you know what element to focus on,” Chanyeol whines. “I can assume I’m not looking for fire, but any of the other three could be ‘shadow.’”

“Ladies and gentlemen, the stage is now open for those who wish to advertise their abilities. The line for familiars forms on the right, the one for magicfolk on the left.”

Shortly after the announcement ends, a smirking guy in a yellow neck tie winks at the crowd before vanishing in a puff of smoke. He reappears instantaneously on the other side of the stage, gives the crowd a sultry look, then saunters offstage to a roar of applause.

“That looked pretty shadowy to me,” Minseok comments, then joins the rest of the group in fond laughter since Chanyeol is already weaving his way through the crowd.

They watch several more demonstrations including a sorcerer sending rings of fire spinning over the stage, then doing handsprings through them before the flames dissipate. An earth elemental assumes the form of a giant badger, then a wizard plays an entire woodwind section by herself. A water elemental crashes the stage at that point to add her voice to the haunting melody, and the two women leave the stage hand in hand when the performance is complete, chased by the wolf whistles of the crowd.

“You should go up there and show off your stuff,” Kyungsoo says, giving Minseok a nudge toward the stage. “If you want a familiar to help you fight, go flex a bit.”

Minseok nods. “I probably should,” he agrees.

“This is discrimination toward those of us who can’t demonstrate our talents indoors,” Hakyeon huffs, pretending to be offended. 

“If you want your time onstage, let Kyungsoo break your arm so I can heal it in front of the crowd,” Junmyeon suggests, face set into false innocence.

“Oh thanks, Jun. You’re such a great pal, always willing to help out a friend,” Hakyeon responds, giving the other mage a playful shove. He gives Minseok a shove, too, prodding him toward the stage. “Go show off on our behalf.”

“Yes, pin all your hopes and expectations on me,” Minseok huffs. “I’m not feeling nearly enough pressure.” He smiles at his pals before heading off toward the line of magicfolk waiting for their turn on stage.

  
  
  


“This is a good show,” Yixing says, happily eating a handful of rainbow candies he’d gotten from the well-stocked snack table.

“If you like watching overlords entice their prey so they can stand behind the excuse that their victim chose to be used and oppressed,” Jongdae mutters, giving the naive earth elemental a sideward glance.

“But I want to be a familiar,” Yixing says. “I want to help people, and I’m not strong or focused enough to do it on my own. I need a magicfolk to channel my abilities into something useful.”

“You’re plenty useful,” Jongdae assures him. “Your radishes are always the biggest and tastiest. And when Nini tore that ligament in his ankle, you helped it grow back together in only a month.”

“But a magicfolk cleric could have healed him instantly,” Yixing says around a mouthful of candy. “And a hedgewitch could coax vegetables into being bigger and sweeter. I’m just fertilizer without a magicfolk, and you know what fertilizer is made of.”

Yixing’s pout is stolen by the sight of a mage forming armor of sparkling ice over his formalwear, manifesting a sword of the same, and working through several martial arts drills with expert precision. He forms targets for himself and tosses the balls of snow into the air with one hand only to slice through all four of them with the sword in his other hand before they hit the ground. Darts of ice fly from his fingertips as he does a flip over the translucent blade in his hand, ending in a power stance with a mighty yell. 

He bows to the applause of the crowd, and as the ice armor sublimates away, Jongdae can see that the face beneath the vanishing helmet belongs to the little mage from the first group of magicfolk Baekhyun had dragged his best friend to meet.

“Aww, he’s so cute!” Yixing coos. “And such a tough little fighter! I wonder if he could beat you in a sparring match?”

“No way,” Jongdae dismisses. “He’s a mage, and water is a conductor. He’d be twitching on the floor faster than anybody.”

“Actually, while water is a good conductor, ice is a rather good insulator,” Yixing says. “I think he’d be able to walk right through your lightning and kick your ass.”

“No way,” Jongdae says again. 

“I think that guy could surprise you,” Yixing says, then frowns at his now empty hand. 

Jongdae scoffs. “He’s a magicfolk. He wants to exploit a familiar to make himself more powerful. There’s nothing surprising about that.”

Yixing only shrugs before wandering off, presumably to get more candy.

  
  
  


Proud of his performance, Minseok hangs around near the stage for a while, sure that someone will come up to him to discuss how they could magnify each other’s power through a familiar bond, kicking monster ass more efficiently together. Or that someone with a powerful spirit form will volunteer to be his mount, perhaps a pegasus or a manticore. If he’s supposed to find someone with the energy of air, a flying mount seems to fit the bill.

But while several people nod and smile at him in passing, offering compliments or congratulations, nobody stops to chat. Disheartened, Minseok heads toward the snack table, hoping fervently that someone has spiked the punch.

The punch turns out to be non-alcoholic but still refreshing after his exertions. As he sips the sweet citrus concoction he checks out the rest of the snacks on offer. He reaches for an iced cookie in the shape of a swirling cyclone, looking up with interest when another hand reaches to grab one shaped like an ocean wave.

“Oh, hello,” Minseok says, offering a polite smile to the guy across the table. 

The guy responds with a smile that reveals his dimples. He’s really cute—too bad he’s wearing the green necktie of an earth elemental instead of air’s yellow.

“Hi,” the familiar says. “I saw your performance—very impressive.”

Minseok’s answering smile is wan. “Not impressive enough, evidently. I’m still looking for a match.”

“Me too,” the earth elemental nods. “I don’t think the kind of magicfolk I could help the most would really be able to show off on stage, though.”

Mouth too full of cookie to ask for clarification, Minseok instead tilts his head in inquiry.

“I think I’m looking for an herbalist or something. Or maybe an elementary instructor. A nurturer. Someone who’d let me help things grow.”

Minseok blinks, hastily swallowing the sweetness in his mouth. “You help things grow?” he asks. “Because my friend is training to be a healer, and the matchmaker told him—”

The earth elemental’s eyes light up, dimples deepening as his full lips spread into a grin. “I’m Yixing, and I’d love to meet this friend.”

“Minseok.” They shake hands across the table. “My friend is called Junmyeon, and he’s probably still lurking in the mages’ corner. He’s not one for big parties like this. Neither am I, really.”

“But a bee must go where the flowers are,” Yixing nods, following Minseok toward the eastern corner of the room. “Is your friend as handsome as you are?”

Minseok feels himself blush. “I guess? I’ve known him far too long to objectively evaluate how attractive he is.”

Yixing laughs, but the sound cuts off when they push through the edge of the crowd and Junmyeon is revealed to indeed be lurking by the fountain with a bored-looking Kyungsoo. Yixing chokes on a gasp, rushing forward to kneel at Junmyeon’s feet.

“Master,” the elemental breathes.

Jun blinks down at the man on the floor. “Um. Hi?”

“His name’s Yixing and his abilities include helping things grow,” Minseok reports. “Maybe you’ll end up taller than Chanyeol, after all.” 

  
  
  


When Yixing doesn’t return from the snack table for the duration of three more show-off magicfolk and two more desperate familiars, Jongdae elects to track him down. His dimpled friend has a habit of wandering off on occasion and Jongdae would rather not have to organize a search party for the guy before they can all go home.

But evidently Yixing isn’t his to worry over anymore—he catches a glimpse of the smiling earth elemental going off with the little ice mage, chatting happily as they head for the mages’ corner. 

Something sharp builds within his core and he can feel his power crackling just below the surface of his skin. Why did it have to be  _ that _ magicfolk that ensnared Yixing? The earth elemental is a pacifist—that battlemage is going to bully his soft friend into hurting people and Jongdae can’t stand by and allow that to happen.

He darts after the pair but the crowd seems to close in around him. By the time he repeatedly excuses himself and perseveres to the eastern corner, Yixing’s in his smaller spirit form in the arms of a mage, eyes closed with contentment as the enamored-looking guy gently strokes his long velvety ears.

For some reason, it’s the sight of the little battlemage with empty arms rather than the sight of his friend’s well-being that sends his power back into dormancy.

The ice mage is smiling at the cuddling pair. “I’ve never seen a rabbit with a horn before,” he says. “And are those wings?”

“He’s a wolpertinger, not a rabbit,” Jongdae says, drawing all eyes to himself as he steps free of the crowd. “They usually have antlers, not horns, but his power form is a unicorn, so.”

The mage holding Yixing gasps. “Oh, I bet you’re so handsome in your power form,” he coos. “I mean, you’re really cute now and you’re really handsome as a human, too, but—”

“Are you a battle brute, too?” Jongdae asks the guy without waiting for him to finish gushing all over his friend.

The mage holding Yixing only looks confused but the ice mage gives Jongdae a strange look. “Junmyeon’s a healer,” he says. “I’m the only ‘battle brute’ among the mage graduates this year.”

“Oh,” Jongdae says as Yixing glares at him from this Junmyeon’s arms. “Uh.”

There’s a lump in Jongdae’s throat that only grows as he sees his friend snuggle closer to the mage that will own him until he dies. The tightness in his chest is unbearable and he can feel the weight of the ice mage’s chilly gaze.

“Please treat him well,” Jongdae blurts, then turns around to plunge blindly back into the crowd.

He doesn’t stop moving until he’s pushed through the double doors and stepped out onto the patio—being out beneath the sky always calms him. Except the appeal of the open air is lessened considerably by the sight of Jongin sitting on a bench with the tall sorcerer Baekhyun had initially tried to chat up.

“That’s so cool,” the sorcerer is saying. “Man, you’re absolutely  _ perfect.” _

Jongin blushes. “You’re the one who can wield a sword completely made of fire,” the air elemental responds, giving the sorcerer a bashful little shove.

“But you’re the one that’s going to enable me to actually wield it effectively,” the sorcerer says, catching Jongin’s hand and holding it. “Those monsters aren’t gonna know what hit ‘em—literally!”

The two burst into besotted giggles and that sharp feeling is back in Jongdae’s chest. For the first time in his life, Jongdae actually  _ wants _ to go inside.

  
  
  


Minseok’s cheeks are starting to ache from smiling so hard at Junmyeon and his new familiar. They’re adorable together, and it seems at least in Jun’s case that the matchmaker’s words were truly prophetic. The healer has always loved rabbits and now he’s got the elemental equivalent of one by his side for the rest of his life. And a unicorn? Minseok is entirely envious. Charging into battle on the back of an awesome beast like that would be amazing, but of course Jun’s not going to do that. He’ll probably spend hours brushing Yixing and braiding his shimmering mane and tail. Lucky bastards.

Sighing, Minseok scans the crowd for yellow neckties but every one he sees is around the neck of someone already chatting excitedly with a magicfolk. Except for the guy leaning against the door to the patio, looking rather murderous. Yixing’s friend looked rather upset to find him with Junmyeon, but the air elemental now seems on the brink of rage.

“Yixing, are you sure your friend will be okay?” Minseok asks.

“Yes,” the rabbit—no,  _ wolpertinger _ —answers. “Jongdae just believes bonding with a magicfolk is equivalent to succumbing to slavery. He can’t understand that I actually feel  _ free— _ I can’t wait to help Junie set up our little healer’s cottage. It’s going to have an herb garden and comfy beds for patients and we’re going to grow the best radishes and help  _ so many people. _ Right, Junie?”

“Right, XingXing,” Junmyeon answers, scratching the base of Yixing’s horn.

Minseok turns from the happy couple back to the guy panting against the patio door. No wonder the guy said he wasn’t looking for anyone. Had he been serious about declining the bond and taking his chances? The prospects for an unattached familiar are pretty bleak.

Well, Minseok’s prospects are also feeling rather bleak. He can either ignore the matchmakers and try to pair up with some other element, or he can stick to the air-energy plan and go home alone to try to find a match online. He knows several powerful fighting pairs that have met through internet brokers—there’s definitely more than a chance of being able to find someone suitable. But that doesn’t make Minseok feel any less disappointed at the moment. 

This is evidently a parallel feeling to whatever the unhappy air elemental is experiencing, because Jongdae just slides down to sit on the ground beside the patio door, head in his hands. 

Minseok frowns. He’s sure the magicfolk-resenting guy isn’t going to welcome his company, but maybe—

“Yixing, Jongdae was with this sassy fire elemental earlier. Do you know who I mean?” 

“Baekhyun?” 

Minseok shrugs. The pair hadn’t introduced themselves, but they’d been close enough to hold hands. And Jongdae really looks like he could use someone to hold his hand right about now.

“If Jun lifts you up, do you think you could find him in the crowd? I want to tell him something.” Minseok is deliberately vague, knowing the soft-hearted wolpertinger would probably go try to soothe Jongdae himself, and he’d rather let him continue to bond with Junmyeon now that the pair are matched.

“I can do better than that,” Yixing says, shifting in Jun’s arms until his feathery wings are free. “I can’t really fly well, but I can still hover a little. Junie, toss me up.”

“Are you sure?” Junmyeon looks rather alarmed.

“We said we were gonna trust each other, didn’t we?”

Junmyeon frowns, but obediently tosses the wolpertinger toward the ceiling. Yixing spreads his speckled wings at the apex, flapping a few times to maintain height before gently drifting back down to Junmyeon’s arms.

“He’s over in the wizards’ corner,” he reports.

“Thanks,” Minseok says, then pushes through the crowd in that direction.

  
  
  


“Jongdae?”

His best friend’s voice dislodges Jongdae from the cyclone of escape plans swirling in his mind. “Baek,” he croaks.

Baekhyun’s arms wrap around him and he’s pulled against a chest that smells reassuringly of baby powder. “Why are you freaking out on the floor?”

“I’m not freaking out,” Jongdae denies, even as he can feel his desperate need for fresh air easing in the comfort of his friend’s embrace.

“You are freaking out,” Baek insists. “If that gorgeous little mage saw you from all the way across the room and was concerned enough to come interrupt my flirting with the tall gust of wind I was chatting up, that definitely counts as freaking out.”

“Little mage?” Jongdae blinks against Baekhyun’s shoulder.

“Yeah, the one with the ice armor and the kitty eyes? He said his name was Minseok.”

“Oh.” 

Why would that guy be watching him, much less notice if he sat on the floor for a while? Why would he care? And why would he send Baek? 

“Yeah, he seemed really nice and he’s, like,  _ super _ hot. Even if he is an  _ ice  _ mage.” Baekhyun chuckles. “And he just radiated BDE even if he’s shorter than me. I’m seriously considering finding him after this and seeing if he’ll let me thank him  _ properly _ for coming to your rescue.”

Jongdae’s need to flee the building and his future shifts into a need to whisk his future away with him. “Don’t,” he blurts.

“Why not?”

“Because.”

“Dude, if I don’t get him, someone else will. There is no way a guy that gorgeous is leaving here alone—might as well be with me.”

“No!” That sharp spike is searing through Jongdae’s chest again. 

Baekhyun’s flirty chatter dies away and he pushes Jongdae away from himself enough to search stricken eyes with concerned ones. “Dae, I know you don’t want to match with anyone, but it’s unreasonable to be upset if the rest of us do. We’ve been dreaming about this forever. We  _ need _ this as well as want it.”

He kisses Jongdae’s hairline. “You’re my best friend and I love you. I will miss you so much if you don’t bond and go feral, but it’s your life and I respect your choice even if it’s a stupid one. So can you accept that I’m really excited to bond with a magicfolk? And try to be happy for me? Just a little?”

Jongdae forces himself to nod. “But not with him,” he adds, curving Baekhyun’s blooming smile back into a frown.

“Why not?”

“Because,” Jongdae says, swallowing around the spike. “That one… Is mine.”

  
  
  


“I’m not gonna kneel for you.”

Minseok almost spit-takes his punch. He whirls around to see Yixing’s friend Jongdae glaring at him, chin lifted, hands clenched at his sides. He’s only a centimeter or two taller than Minseok but he may as well be one of the titans of old. 

Minseok is immediately in cautious mode. “Uh. I never expected you to? Why—”

“No one else is gonna kneel for you, either.”

Even if it’s true, the declaration still stings. “I know,” Minseok says, aiming for a soothing tone instead of a bitter one. “It’s fine. I’ll just look online—” 

“No,” Jongdae states flatly. “I’m not your property or your pet.”

Minseok blinks. “Of course not.”

“I’m not subservient to you. I’m not relinquishing my power for anyone else to wield.” Jongdae’s voice is forceful but his entire body is shaking.

Another blink. “Uh. Okay? I’m not sure why you’re telling me this—”

“Because. I’m claiming you. We’ll bond, but you’re going to belong to  _ me, _ not the other way around.”

“What if I don’t want—” 

“You need me,” Jongdae interrupts, eyes dark and magnetic. “If you’re looking for the power of air, there’s no one more powerful than me.”

Minseok studies the guy carefully. If not for the yellow of his necktie, Minseok would have guessed this hothead to be a fire elemental instead. But Minseok still wants to kick monster ass, and he can feel the thrum of the energy twisting beneath the surface, writhing as if Jongdae can barely contain it.

“I’m looking for the  _ energy  _ of air, not power,” Minseok clarifies. “And I’m not interested in bonding with anyone who isn’t wholly invested in our partnership. You may be powerful, but I need someone I can trust in the heat of battle, not someone who seems rather like he’d enjoy killing me.” He takes a sip of punch to hide the surprise of actually managing to finish an entire sentence while this elemental seethes in front of him.

Jongdae just stares at him for a moment, breathing raggedly as if every breath were a lungful of poison.

“I fucking  _ am _ energy,” Jongdae finally says. “But I won’t submit to you or anyone.”

Minseok shrugs. “I don’t need a familiar to submit. I need a familiar to help me kick ass. Preferably one who can carry me into battle and fight by my side. A partner I can rely on. Someone who actually cares, if not about me then at least about protecting settlerfolk from the dangers of the wilds.”

There’s another moment of agitated panting. “I won’t be dominated,” Jongdae says, but his voice is quieter, almost a plea rather than a statement.

Minseok tilts his head. “I already said—”

There’s a commotion over in the witches’ corner involving Jongdae’s friend Baekhyun forcibly attempting to remove Kyungsoo’s pants. Since Kyungsoo has the strength of the earth in his hands, Minseok brings unconcerned eyes back to the agitated air elemental in front of him, tilting his head as a thought occurs to him.

“Are you saying that you want to top?” he asks.

Jongdae’s gaze also snaps back to Minseok’s face. “I won’t be dominated,” he says again.

“It’s possible to be fucked without being dominated,” Minseok points out. “And for our magic to bond fully, I have to share my essence with you. But the technical requirement is met easily enough if we’re active about it, so if you want to top half the time, I have no objections. Taking your dick isn’t going to diminish me in any way. Bonding of any kind only makes both of us stronger.” 

“I’m already the strongest,” Jongdae says. “Nothing will be able to even touch you with my protection. I will smite your targets from afar so they are weakened before we close with them. And I can carry you in and out of battle and across the entire kingdom on mighty, agile wings. I am made to fight, and if you swear I am an ally instead of a pawn, I will agree to do so by your side.”

Minseok suppresses a smile. Those with air affinities are often rather wordy folks, and the way this elemental bolsters himself with formal speech is rather cute.

“I will never even think of attempting to subjugate you in any way. I want a partner, not a pet. But I’d also like to know what exactly I’m bonding with. You’ve seen what I can do.” Minseok lifts an expectant brow.

“I’m Kim Jongdae. My power form is a gryphon,” Jongdae declares, causing Minseok to widen his eyes with astonishment. “And I am lightning’s conduit.”

  
  
  


Jongdae watches the battlemage gape at him, rather enjoying the man’s surprise.

“Well,” he finally says. “I’m Kim Minseok, and as you saw, I’m an ice-wielding battlemage. The matchmaker told me I should seek the energy of air, and you’re correct that you completely embody that description.”

The corners of Jongdae’s mouth curl up a little. “You have no idea how much,” he says.

“But I’d like to,” Minseok continues. “Will you help me protect those who can’t protect themselves?”

Jongdae can’t help but hesitate. The bond, once initiated, is really only severable by death. Not that he’d want to sever it—he’s already a sucker for those huge cat-like eyes. But he doesn’t have to let Minseok know that. Jongdae refuses to be exploited.

“I won’t kneel,” Jongdae says again. “But if you stand by all you’ve promised, then I’ll accept.”

Minseok smiles, bouncing on his toes a little. Jongdae fights the urge to close his eyes to protect himself from losing his breath at the endearing sight. Curse his inherent need to bond. Curse this mage for being so damn appealing. 

“That’s great! Uh, no kneeling of course, but how about a handshake?”

Jongdae sighs, releasing as much tension as he can before he clasps his new mage’s hand. And he’s glad he managed to settle the lightning beneath his skin because of course, at Minseok’s touch, he shifts into his heart form.

To his credit, Minseok does not coo at him. Instead, he makes the cutest little face of delight, eyes wide and mouth rounded into a little circle.

“Wow,” he says, crouching down next to Jongdae. “You’re magnificent. I’ve never seen an eagle with a feline head before.”

“It’s a lion’s head. I’m an anzu, and my kind are accustomed to being worshipped.” Jongdae fluffs his feathers a bit, turning his head around to lick the ones on his shoulder back into position. “I suppose you want me to sit on your shoulder so you can show me off.”

“You’re absolutely worthy of being shown off. But you’re not my pet. It’s your decision where you sit and whether you tolerate anyone’s attention. You look really soft—I bet people would try to pet you and I can understand that telling them off would get tiresome.”

“I am really soft,” Jongdae states. “And those who try to pet me without permission get a  _ shocking _ reason not to try it again.”

Minseok laughs, showing off his gums and scrunching up his nose. It’s really fucking cute. Jongdae hates it.

“Noted,” the mage says. “I won’t touch you without your permission if I can at all help it.”

“You can touch me,” Jongdae sighs. “It’ll be hard to bond if you don’t.”

Another chuckle. “Ah yes. Well. Thanks.” Minseok doesn’t reach for Jongdae, but his fingers twitch as he eyes the place where his golden lion fur transitions to equally-golden eagle feathers.

“Oh, just pet me already and get it over with,” Jongdae huffs.

Minseok smiles sheepishly. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. It’s your body and you don’t need to feel obligated—”

Jongdae hops closer and butts his head up against Minseok’s knee. Reflexively, Minseok’s hands fly out, and the left one lands on top of Jongdae’s shoulder. 

“Oh,” the mage says. “Oh, you really  _ are _ soft.” 

His fingers curl into the feathers of Jongdae’s shoulder, scratching gently where his wing meets his body. 

It feels amazing. Jongdae can’t help but close his eyes and purr.


	2. Coupling

The next month passes by in a blur for Minseok. There are his final exams, his official graduation ceremony, photos with friends and relatives and parties with the same. Minseok tries to soak it up, absorb all these once-in-a-lifetime experiences, savor the last of his childhood before turning his attention toward his adulthood.

But no matter what’s going on, part of Minseok’s brain is obsessing over Jongdae.

Jongdae, who had agreed to a partnership but refused to belong to Minseok the way Yixing enthusiastically belongs to Junmyeon. Jongdae, with his fierce eyes and sharp cheekbones, a gryphon even in human form. Jongdae, who glares at Minseok and purrs beneath his fingers.

What noises would he make beneath Minseok’s hands? His body?

Except, of course, Jongdae doesn’t want to be beneath Minseok in any way. The mage is resigned to being on his back in the bedroom for the rest of his life, either being topped by Jongdae or being ridden. The results will be the same—connection, enhancement, synergy. Like any magicfolk hoping for a familiar—like all familiars without a magicfolk partner—Minseok has never emptied himself into anyone or allowed anyone to fill him. But that doesn’t mean he’s a stranger to sharing pleasure, and he considers himself rather skilled at that particular pursuit.

It’s a little disappointing that from now on, pleasure will be only business. But maybe Minseok can at least convince Jongdae to be friends. They’re to be bonded for life, and it will be a rather empty life for Minseok without companionship along with partnership.

It’s already a little awkward, hanging out with his friends alone while they each have familiars by their side or in their arms. Junmyeon and Yixing may as well have cartoon hearts drifting continuously upwards over their heads, Chanyeol and his familiar Jongin are constantly engaged in a mutual admiration fest, and Hakyeon and his stony familiar Taekwoon are always affectionately bickering and teasing each other. Even Kyungsoo had ended up bonded with Jongdae’s best friend,the very animated Baekhyun seeming to delight in tormenting the curmudgeonly Kyungsoo until the witch snaps and punishes him, usually in a way that the familiar loudly enjoys.

Minseok is glad his friends are happy. But it would be easier to smile at their antics if he had an anzu on his arm or his shoulder or even perched somewhere nearby. Or Jongdae’s man shape by his side or just in the same room. But though Minseok had texted him every time the group had some graduation-related event or got together just for fun, Jongdae never replied much less deigned to join them.

The mage had even confirmed with Baekhyun that Jongdae had given him the correct number.

“You’ll have to be patient with him,” the fire elemental said, perched on Kyungsoo’s shoulder in his heart form, a gently-glowing squirrel monkey. “He feels like he’s betrayed himself by agreeing to bond with you. It’ll take him time to come to terms with it, but remember that  _ he _ approached  _ you. _ He’ll come around.”

Minseok certainly hopes so, but with no evidence of that happening any time soon, the mage arranges for them to have separate accommodations at Frontier Defense training camp. Chanyeol and Jongin had agreed to separate—a usually stressful thing for most magicfolk and their familiars—so that Jongin and Jongdae could bunk together while Chanyeol and Minseok shared the adjacent cabin.

Minseok just hopes that his reluctant-but-insistent familiar shows up at the bus depot on departure day.

  
  
  


“When do you plan to stop being an ass and actually talk to your moping little mage?”

Jongdae frowns at the envelope Baekhyun whacks him with before dropping in his lap. “He’s not moping. His insta’s full of party pics.”

“You stalk his insta but won’t text him back?”

“I’m not stalking him. You follow him so he shows up in my feed.”

Baekhyun gives him a narrow-eyed look. “Dude. He’s half-convinced you’re not going to go to (boot camp) with him—those are your bus tickets and registration details that he paid for and filled out for you, by the way—and he just looks at the rest of us with this  _ face _ whenever anyone does anything affectionate.”

“Well, too bad for him if he wants a shoulder decoration. He’s getting a badass mount, enhanced protection, and seriously upgraded firepower. I’m not gonna stroke his ego by being arm candy, too.”

Baekhyun scoffs. “I think he just wants a  _ friend, _ Jongdae.”

“He has plenty of friends.”

“But none of them are his familiar. I mean, not all matched pairs are attached at the hip, and it’s fine if you want to have your own separate life instead of being an accessory to his. But most matches at least  _ talk _ to each other. Spend time together. Practice together. Are you planning to just show up once a week, swallow his dick, and leave again until you get an assignment?”

“He’s gonna swallow  _ my _ dick, and we don’t need to practice together. I’ll fly him to the monster, smite the fuck out of it, then he can shoot it full of ice lances or whatever, and I’ll drop him off and go home.”

Baekhyun gives him a long look. “You’re terrible. I’m gonna tell him to make a profile online and find someone else.”

Jongdae’s breath hitches in alarm. “He won’t,” he says, as much to himself as to his best friend. “I’m the one the matchmakers told him to find.”

“Maybe,” Baekhyun shrugs. “But he’d be better off with a familiar that actually  _ likes _ him. Someone who’d build a partnership that would support both of them instead of phoning it in.”

“I’m not gonna phone it in,” Jongdae protests. “And I like him just fine. But I don’t belong to him. I’m not gonna be at his beck and call. I have my own priorities.”

Baekhyun looks around Jongdae’s dorm room, taking in the desk now empty of any assignments, the Institute calendar on the wall with all days blank since their own graduation ceremony a week ago, and the laptop on his bed paused in the middle of an anime fight scene. 

“Clearly,” he says, eyebrow raised. 

Baekhyun sits down on the edge of the bed beside Jongdae with a sigh. “Jongdae. Why did you force him to claim you if you’re going to continually reject him?”

“I’m not rejecting him. I’m rejecting servitude.”

“You’re rejecting basic social interaction. You hold doors for strangers but you won’t return Minseok’s texts even to acknowledge you got them. I have seen you chat for two hours with a stranger on a train but you can’t spare a few words for the guy  _ you chose _ to be tied to for life. I love you, and I think that the matchmaker was right. Your abilities perfectly compliment his magic and Minseok himself may tell you that he doesn’t care how you treat him as long as you allow him to make use of your power. But he would be lying just as much as you’re lying when you say you’re maintaining your independence rather than straight up avoiding him.”

Baekhyun rests a hand on Jongdae’s leg. “As your best friend, I am telling you that you are tormenting both Minseok and yourself by refusing to get to know him. He’s a good guy and he doesn’t deserve this. Neither do you. So I’m telling you: Let him go, or go all in. This limbo will weaken your bond and get you both killed.”

Jongdae’s eyes lock on the fire elemental’s hand on his leg. His stomach churns at the thought of Minseok choosing anyone else. Smiling at anyone else.  _ Bonding _ with anyone else. Jongdae refuses to be owned but he wants to be the only one who knows what Minseok’s sturdy fingers feel like buried in his feathers. In his hair. What that beautiful face looks like when pleasure overwhelms him.

“I can’t let him go,” Jongdae whispers.

“Then you know what you gotta do.” Baekhyun pats his knee before standing up and heading to the door. “The usual group is meeting for movie night in an hour,” he says over his shoulder.

Jongdae grunts in acknowledgement, then takes a deep breath before flipping open the envelope that holds the passport to his future.

  
  
  


At the sudden thunk against his bedroom window, Minseok jumps, the lyrics of the pop song he’s singing along to knocked entirely out of his head. Everything leaves his head when he turns to see the anzu perched on his windowsill, balanced on one taloned foot with the other curled into a fist, ready to rap the glass again.

Minseok drops the underwear he was about to pack and crosses to slide the window open.

“Jongdae?” he asks, as if near-mythical creatures visit him all the time so he needs to differentiate.

“Who else?” the anzu says. His words are slightly distorted by the envelope in his mouth, but his feline lips are curled around it in what might be a smile.

Stepping back, Minseok gestures a welcome. Jongdae ducks through the window and hops to the ground, transforming back into his human shape.

“Hi,” Minseok says, very conscious of all his underwear laid out on his bedspread.

“Hey,” Jongdae says, removing the envelope from between his teeth and offering another half-smile that looks almost as feline in this form.

Neither of them say anything for a minute. Minseok’s face heats as Jongdae looks around the room, eyes lingering on the contents of his bed.

“I’m, um. Packing.” 

It chafes Minseok deeply to do so but he crosses to the bed, scoops up all his underwear and dumps it in the open suitcase without rolling it into tidy cylinders as he prefers. He flips the lid closed and shoves the suitcase more toward the head of the bed.

“Uh, you can sit if you want,” he gestures to the now-clear bedspread. 

Jongdae moves to the bed, sitting on the very edge as his eyes continue to wander. He takes in Minseok’s band posters and manga collection dispassionately but his brows lift when his gaze lands on the engraved copper kettle holding pride of place on a display stand.

“You were a cauldron baby?” he asks, dark eyes moving from the kettle to Minseok’s face.

Minseok nods. “I have two fathers, so.”

“We don’t really have parents,” Jongdae says. “Or I guess I have, like, a dozen parents.”

Minseok nods again. “You coalesce. And are reared by those of your element who enjoy nurturing.” 

They learn basic elemental physiology, such as it is, at the academy. How and why elementals coalesce around a spark of humanesque intelligence isn’t fully understood, but they come into existence with adult form and intellect but childlike wisdom (or rather, lack thereof). This happens more often in certain locations, and elemental communities spring up in these areas, educating and socializing the newly-coalesced so they don’t go feral and become a potential hazard to travellers and wildlife. 

Unbonded familiars are also incredibly likely to go feral, socialized or not, and Jongdae is here on Minseok’s bed only because he seeks to avoid that fate. There really can’t be any other reason that this powerful creature demanded the mage take him on when he obviously has zero desire for the bond. Minseok can feel the crackle of his energy even from two meters away. He’s never felt a familiar so barely contained. If Jongdae were to go feral, he’d be destructive on a scale history hasn’t seen before.

“Thanks again,” Minseok says when the pause between them starts to feel heavy. “I know you don’t really want this, but I can’t bear to think of you going feral. So even if we only bond enough to prevent that, I’m grateful. I’m well-trained and my magic is strong. There’s no need for you to force yourself to work with me. I understand that all you want is a chance to freely live your own life.”

Jongdae looks at Minseok for the space of several heartbeats, face tilted in a way that makes his fluffy blond bangs tumble across his forehead.

“I said I’d work with you,” the air elemental says. “I’m here to begin the bond. And apologize. For not coming sooner.”

Jongdae’s eyes drop to the shoes he’s not actually wearing. It’s so strange for Minseok to think that what seems like clothes to him are just a  _ part _ of Jongdae, formed from his being just as his arm or his eyebrows. He appears clothed because he chooses to be, and would be nude—or a gryphon or an anzu—as soon as that becomes his preference.

It’s also strange that despite his ability to create any outfit or adornment he pleases, the appearance of his “natural” features is fixed. He could dye his blond hair dark, but the next time he assumed his human form it would be blond again. His feathers and fur as an anzu will always be golden. Likely so will his pelt and plumage as a gryphon. 

According to Minseok’s professors it has something to do with an elemental’s sense of self. Within the depths of their consciousness, they perceive themselves to be a certain way. Parts of that image are mutable, like clothing, feather adornments, or quarter marks. But parts of that image are fixed, so Jongdae in human form will always look at Minseok with dark eyes from beneath blond bangs. The light will always catch on the sharp blades of his cheekbones and the angles of his jaw, and his lips will always be recurved as if made for smiling.

It somehow makes his currently-neutral expression seem that much more melancholy.

“I know you said that,” Minseok acknowledges. “But I don’t want you to feel trapped by something you said out of panic. It’s really fine if you don’t. I’ll officially release you, if you want. We can alter the agreement to a maintenance bond. After it’s established, you’ll only have to see me every other month or so.”

“No.” Jongdae’s eyes snap along with his voice. “I’ll work with you. We’ll bond fully.”

“Oh.” The  _ are you sure? _ dies on Minseok’s tongue, because those eyes and the set of that jaw couldn’t be anything but. “Um. Okay. I’ll try my best not to make it unpleasant for you. Tell me if anything’s not to your liking. I really will do things your way as much as possible.”

“You should finish packing,” Jongdae says. “I’ll help if you want. Then we should sleep.”

“Together?” Minseok decides to pretend his voice hadn’t just cracked in the hopes that Jongdae will follow his example.

“Beside each other,” the familiar clarifies. “I know I’m… difficult. For a non-elemental to get close to. But the bond is built from proximity and intimacy, so we can at least have the one while we work on the other.”

“Oh. Yes. That makes sense.”

And it makes sense for Minseok not to be shy about folding his underwear in front of someone who’s going to have an up-close acquaintance with what’s inside said underwear. So Minseok re-opens his suitcase, removes the rumpled undergarments, and sets about smoothing, folding, and rolling them up, making a tidy row inside his luggage alongside his similarly-rolled socks.

“You’re neat,” Jongdae observes. “Particular.” 

He’s now lounging sideways across the foot of the bed, shoes politely replaced with socks even though they’re technically no cleaner. His torso is propped up by his elbows so he can better make Minseok self-conscious with how closely he’s observing.

“Yes,” Minseok answers, feeling his cheeks heat. “According to my friends and family, I am the most rigid mage ever.”

Jongdae tilts his head. “Yet you say you’ll do things my way, and I am the epitome of chaos.”

Minseok smiles down at the nearly-full suitcase. “Then it’s evidently true that you’re meant to balance me. That we’ll balance each other.”

“Or drive each other crazy.” There’s a hint of amusement in Jongdae’s voice that still shows on his face when Minseok looks up at his reluctant familiar.

“Or drive each other crazy,” he agrees with a grin.

  
  
  


Minseok is definitely going to drive Jongdae crazy, but not because of his orderly compulsions. It’s going to be the mage’s cuteness that does him in, unless his unconscious sex appeal sends Jongdae feral first.

Once Minseok had relaxed, he’d begun singing along with the idol pop coming from a bluetooth speaker on his freakishly-tidy desk. And the singing had lead to dancing, and the dancing involved more hips and ass than Minseok was probably aware of.

At least the physical part of bond-building isn’t going to be a problem. Jongdae’s groin is more interested than is probably good for him, considering he’s about to sleep next to the guy. Especially because elementals don’t truly sleep like humans do.

They merely go into a sort of dream-like trance, their mind needing downtime that their body does not. And the trance isn’t deep enough to block out the occasional soft sound Minseok makes in his sleep. The way he tries to stay on his side of the bed but ends up cuddled up to Jongdae, arms and legs still obeying orders to keep to themselves even as his face ends up pressed against Jongdae’s shoulder.

It would be easy to shift a bit, to pull Minseok’s compact little figure to fit against his own. They’re close in height though Jongdae is wiry where the mage is built sturdy. Jongdae’s torso is longer, enough so that he knows he could comfortably curl around the mage as the big spoon and pass the night with his nose against the nape of Minseok’s neck.

And this is a difficult idea to ignore, because Minseok smells of wind.

He’d gone away to shower and come back smelling like crisp breeze through a pine forest, sharp and soothing in equal measure. The scent wafts over Jongdae whenever the mage shifts, and since his head is now mostly on Jongdae’s pillow, all the elemental would have to do is turn his head for his nose to be in close proximity to the straight black hair that has a tendency to obscure one of the mage’s wide feline eyes.

Baekhyun was more right than he knew when he told Jongdae to either walk away or dive in. There’s no way Jongdae’s going to be able to resist entangling himself completely with this incredibly appealing guy. Not if they need to share their bodies to share their magic. Not if they’re meant to share space for the rest of their lives.

That was another thing Jongdae used to resent—that untethered elementals existed indefinitely while familiars were doomed to die with the magicfolk they were bound to. But Jongdae gets it now. Already he gets it. An untethered elemental basically exists as long as they choose to do so, and familiars are exactly the same. It’s just that no familiar would choose to exist without their magicfolk. 

Jongdae has already proven himself unwilling to live without Minseok.

In the morning, Jongdae meets Minseok’s parents as they feed their child a good breakfast Jongdae doesn’t need. He’s fueled by the very air around him, from the way it vibrates with its own energy. Remaining indoors in the stifling stillness for too long would eventually drain him, but he’s not even close to that yet.

So he sits politely at the table and sips at a cup of tea that he also doesn’t need but enjoys anyway, the sensation of the liquid absorbing into his body, the earthy flavor on his tongue. The combination reminds him of Minseok, even more so now that he’s seen those whose essences he was kindled from.

Minseok’s witch parent—the one he calls Dad and whom the other parent calls Changmin—is typical of his kind. Soft-spoken, the type not to talk unless he has something specific to say. Grounding, calming his son’s nerves with nothing more than a hand on Minseok’s shoulder. Habits set in stone, meticulous over efficient in a way his son echoes, amplified. His contribution to Minseok’s development is so obvious one might find it surprising that he turned out to be a mage instead of a witch as well.

The mage parent—called Papa by Minseok and Yunho by his spouse—is the classic facilitator type. He’s always in motion, checking to make sure everyone has what they need, doing all he can to ensure smooth sailing for those around him. He’s more talkative but doesn’t babble, just lets his extroversion soak into people, draw them out, buoy them up. 

But Minseok is his Papa’s child as much or more so than the other’s. He’s more introverted, the still-waters-run-deep type, but he shares his mage parent’s penchant for making those around him comfortable. He’s quiet in a way that invites others to speak, creating an understated warmth like that of a geothermal pool rather than the noonday sun. It’s easy to overlook his influence since he’s more likely to nudge the rudder of a boat rather than change the course of the stream, making subtle suggestions that smooth situations in the way that a ripple bouncing off stone evens itself out.

And he’s far more flexible than he gives himself credit for. It’s not always as blatant as offering to accommodate his familiar in any way he can. It’s in setting a strip of his bacon on his Dad’s plate when he looks for more rather than letting his Papa get up from his own meal to cook again. It’s in adding milk to his coffee since they’re out of cream, transitioning from wiping down counters to washing dishes when his papa commandeers the rag to mop up a spill.

It’s interesting to observe a human family up close like this. The rhythm of working together is familiar, as is the easy and obvious love they share. It’s a novelty to see how Minseok twitches his eyebrows while he listens in just the way his Dad does, the way his nose wrinkles when he laughs in a way that echoes his Papa. Elementals often pick up behavioral traits of those that assist them in fully understanding the world, but there is almost never anything more than a superficial physical resemblance. Finding similarities between Minseok and his parents is fascinating, as is isolating traits that are Minseok’s alone.

After all this close observation, Jongdae can only conclude that his best friend is right again: Minseok is a good guy.

There’s still a part of Jongdae that hates it. That says he’s justifying in retrospect, that he’s rationalizing a choice he was forced to make.

But the choice has been made. He can’t back out and survive. The only way Jongdae can go from here is forward, so forward Jongdae goes.

  
  
  


Minseok’s not sure what to make of the familiar that agreed to work with him. He’s never really been sure, but he thought he had the general idea at first—Jongdae needs a magicfolk, hates that he needs a magicfolk, and therefore that hate leaks out on said magicfolk even if they both know it’s not personal. He’d been ready to be an unobtrusive stabilizing influence at minimum or a professional business partner at best.

He had not been ready to be furniture.

But that’s what he is from the moment they leave the house that morning. He’s a perch for an anzu while they wait for the bus, Jongdae electing to groom his feathers with his raspy lion tongue rather than speak to anyone. On board the bus, Jongdae resumes his human shape so he can lean up against Minseok, pressing the mage against the window while the elemental pretends to sleep.

And when they finally get to the training camp—and after Jongdae pitches a fit about anyone else sleeping beside  _ his _ mage, leaving a happy Jongin and a confused Chanyeol to bunk together—the air elemental curls up on the bed, head pillowed on Minseok’s thigh as the mage reads over the itinerary taped to each cabin door.

“It says the first two days are for settling in and strengthening the bond. Exercises won’t begin until Wednesday,” Minseok reports. 

They’re evidently serious about it, because several bottles of lube are provided with the cabin—a large one on the nightstand of the double bed and smaller ones on the end table by the sofa and in the shampoo rack in the shower. 

“I’m ready when you are,” Jongdae says.

“Um. I won’t be able to think about anything else until I put all my stuff in its proper place,” Minseok admits, cheeks heating.

“I figured,” Jongdae snorts.

He then proceeds to lay on the bed, watching Minseok scurrying around to put his clothes in the chest of drawers and all his accoutrements neatly where they’re needed. When his laptop and phone are both attached to their chargers and resting on the wooden desk, Minseok deems the little cabin properly set up.

“Done?” Jongdae asks.

Minseok nods, taking a final look around to be sure.

“Then come here.”

Minseok obeys, a little hesitant but more than a little excited. He lies down on his side to mirror Jongdae, and the two of them do nothing but run their gazes over each other for several long moments.

Then Jongdae leans in, sealing his mouth to Minseok’s. He rolls Minseok onto his back and rests himself on top of the mage, elbows against the blanket elevating his torso slightly so Minseok can do dumb human things like breathe. Not that he’s doing a great job of that at the moment.

Jongdae’s mouth on his is hot and insistent, tongue diving in for an early claim of dominance. And Minseok fights the flare of heat that rises to respond, the urge to set his own tongue to duel, to roll them both over until Jongdae’s beneath him and he can plunder the elemental’s mouth.

Instead he forces himself to lie there, empty hands curled loosely on either side of his head as Jongdae takes control, rolling his hips against Minseok’s with more and more pressure until Minseok’s hard inside his jeans. 

“When was the last time you? With anyone?” Jongdae asks when they break apart long enough to rid Minseok of his shirt.

“Months?” Minseok answers as he lies back against the pillows again. He’d been too busy with graduation prep, final exam revision, battle drills to even think about finding a moment to make out with someone, hands in each other’s pants.

And now he can’t think of anything at all with Jongdae’s hands on his chest, his abs, his waist, strong thumbs digging into the hollows of his hips.

“So you won’t last,” Jongdae deduces, breaking the kiss long enough to look down and unbutton Minseok’s fly.

“I’ll do my best,” Minseok says. “I’ll take care of you in any case.”

“I won’t last, either,” Jongdae says, kneeling to tug Minseok’s pants and underwear down and off, then tug him further down the bed with strength a Mundane his size would not have possessed. And then Jongdae’s naked too, crawling up the bed only to stretch his feet up toward the pillows.

“Let’s just be efficient about this,” he says, shifting so his erection is near Minseok’s face. 

Minseok is only confused until Jongdae engulfs his ready cock with the wet heat of his mouth.

Then he rolls onto his side to face the body beside him, making it easier for Jongdae to swallow his length and for Minseok to get his mouth around the head of Jongdae’s cock as well. The elemental tastes like the air that prickles against one’s skin just before a thunderstorm and Minseok hums, trying to take as much of Jongdae into his mouth as possible.

And neither of them do last. Minseok’s groaning around Jongdae’s cock, pulsing into Jongdae’s mouth half a second before the elemental’s cock is pulsing Jongdae’s essence into his. It’s an orgasm of relief rather than pleasure, an easing of the knot of painful arousal in his gut as Minseok concentrates on sucking everything out of Jongdae, swallowing every metallic-tasting drop he’s given.

When they’re sure they’ve gotten every bit of the other’s essence inside themselves, they roll apart, panting gently on the bed. Minseok smiles at the breathy sounds beside him, pleased to have affected his partner’s body so much even though he hadn’t really touched it.

But then Jongdae’s righting himself, squirming up beside Minseok to drape an arm and a leg over the mage’s body.

“Sleep,” he instructs. “We’ll go again in a bit.”

Minseok hums his agreement, eyes already closed.

  
  
  


It’s amazing to Jongdae how Minseok manages to be so sexy one moment, toned abs tensed against the urge to thrust until they soften to the tune of a low, filthy moan as the mage climaxes. It had been hot enough to trigger Jongdae’s own end, and now, mere moments later, Minseok is asleep beneath him, looking entirely angelic.

And such easy trust. Such easy acceptance of Jongdae’s presence in his life. And ready acceptance of Jongdae’s need to dominate, even though the elemental can tell it’s not at all easy for the mage. Minseok may have to line up his toiletries in a particular order, spaced evenly apart in a perfectly straight line, but he’s far from inflexible.

It’s Jongdae, child of chaos, that’s the rigid one of the pair.

Sighing, Jongdae leaves the mage asleep and goes out to the cabin’s porch, needing the comfort of the open air. He’s unsurprised to find Jongin there already, leaning against the railing, face tipped up to the sky. They don’t experience post-coital drowsiness and their refractory periods aren’t much to speak of, so he joins his fellow air elemental, breathing in the piney freshness of the surrounding forest together while waiting for their humans to recover.

“Hey,” Jongdae greets, feeling a little foolish. “Uh. Sorry for being such a brat earlier.”

Jongin forgives him with a smile. “This must be hard on you.”

Jongdae lets a puff of air sputter out through slack lips. “Only because I’m making it hard. Minseok is great. It could be easy if I let it.”

“So let it.”

“I’m trying.”

There’s a long, comfortable pause as the two familiars soak in their element.

“Do you remember how confusing everything was when you first coalesced?” Jongin asks after a bit.

Jongdae nods.

“Me, too. It seemed like as soon as I felt confident in my understanding of the world, I’d learn something new that set everything I thought I’d known swirling into a different form. Like a cloud re-shaped by the wind.”

Jongdae snorts. “I’m being a terrible cloud,” he acknowledges.

His fellow familiar nods. “But at least you’re not a thunderhead anymore.”

Jongin’s chocolate brown eyes search Jongdae’s face as if he’s seeing straight into him. “Outside our influence, lightning is born from ice,” he observes. “There will never be a better conduit for your power. As soon as I saw him arm himself on stage, I knew he was meant for you.”

Jongdae nods, swallowing hard. “So did I.”

They stand for a few moments in companionable silence before Jongdae nods to the other elemental. “Thanks, Jongin.”

“No problem,” Jongin deflects.

They share a smile before Jongdae returns to his sleeping mage.

Jongdae cuddles up beside him, nude once again to match the boneless figure in the bed. When he runs a hand down Minseok’s washboard abs and trails fingers along his thigh, the mage’s cock twitches. If that part of him is ready to awaken again, Jongdae figures it’s alright to rouse the host.

He presses a kiss to Minseok’s shoulder, working his way toward his neck, smiling against the mage’s skin when he stirs with a questioning sound that would be more likely to emerge from a cat’s mouth than a human’s.

“Mmngdae?”

“It would be seriously creepy if it were someone else.”

Minseok smiles even before his eyelids drag themselves open. “Time for another round?”

“It could be.”

“Mmkay.” Minseok flattens himself out and spreads his legs a bit, then blinks drowsily at Jongdae through the hair that’s fallen over his face. “How do you want me?”

He’s the picture of sleepy submission and Jongdae’s not unaffected by the sight. But there’s a reason it’s assumed that magicfolk always top their familiars. 

While Minseok  _ has _ magic—and plenty of it, given the demonstration he put on at the Magic Match ball—Jongdae  _ is _ magic. He’s not made of organs and bones and blood. He breathes because he’s an air elemental, in the same way that water elementals drink frequently, earth elementals eat, and fire elementals bask in the sun. He doesn’t have a heartbeat, though the pulse of his magic can be felt beneath the surface at wrists and neck. It’s that pulse that fills his dick when he’s aroused and exits his body when he climaxes. 

It sounds more mystical to say  _ essence _ rather than  _ jizz, _ but in the case of familiars, it really isn’t a euphemism. They expel their magic in its purest form, and it’s readily absorbed by their partner’s own magic whether it enters the body or merely contacts skin.

But magicfolk are still human even if they’ve got a dose of elemental power as well. They’re made of cells that Mundane biology can mostly explain, and thousands of those cells are expelled from a man during orgasm. Each of them contains only half of what it means to be that exact magicfolk, but it’s in a relatively pure form, free of metabolic structures or defense mechanisms. By sending this “essence” of himself into Jongdae’s body, Minseok is teaching the familiar’s magic to recognize his; to recognize  _ him. _ Swallowing it down does have some effect, but it’s not as well absorbed by the elemental equivalent of a stomach as it is by the undifferentiated magic of his core. 

So instead of rutting against the gorgeous little mage freely offering himself to please his finicky familiar, Jongdae rolls them both over until the surprised mage’s pelvis is nestled between Jongdae’s legs.

“I want you in me,” he says softly.

Minseok’s eyes flare wide. “Like this?” he asks. “You wouldn’t rather ride me?”

Jongdae shrugs. “Someone told me it’s possible to be fucked without being dominated. I’m curious about how exactly that might work out.”

Those feline eyes hood with desire. “Oh, Jongdae,” Minseok murmurs, voice low and burred. “Let me touch you like a lover and I’ll give myself to you completely.”

“We are lovers,” Jongdae says. “Touch me however you like.”

And then Minseok’s hands are on him, one wrapping around the nape of his neck to both steady Jongdae’s head and support himself while the other hand wanders over Jongdae’s chest, along his ribs, caresses his hip. And Minseok’s mouth is on him, kissing him ardently but not forcefully, lips massaging and sucking at lips but tongue remaining within the mage’s mouth.

“Jongdae,” Minseok sighs, shifting his lips to the familiar’s jawline, his neck. “Jongdae, you’re so beautiful. Your face had me mesmerized from the first time I saw you. Those intense eyes. That sweet little mouth. Gods, these  _ cheekbones.” _

Minseok kisses them, dampening one side, then the other with the evidence of his appreciation.

“And this body, Jongdae. I know you don’t deliberately choose your features but if you had, you could not have built a body more alluring to me. You’re a work of art, Jongdae.”

Jongdae feels rather like a work of art. He’d always been content with his looks but he hadn’t seen himself as all that special appearance-wise. He’s impressive in other ways, so he hadn’t really cared about that anyways. But having someone moan over him like this? Listing off body parts as if naming them alone conveys why they’re worthy of adoration? This is new, and strange, and really, really flattering.

“Gods, Jongdae!  _ Look _ at this tiny little waist! And your cute little belly button—I need to taste it.”

Jongdae squirms a little, releasing a giggle at the tickling sensation of Minseok’s tongue probing his navel. He’d always thought it silly that elementals have navels considering they aren’t truly born, but whatever causes them to coalesce carries the echo of a human shape and so they are molded.

Now he’s rather appreciative of the small divot in his abdomen.

“Minseok,” he says in a voice close to a moan. “Minseok, let me touch you, too.”

“Oh,  _ please, _ Jongdae.” Minseok’s voice slides right past moan and down into growl. “Gods, I want your hands on me so badly.”

Jongdae wraps his arms around the sturdy torso above him, feeling the way Minseok’s muscles flex as his arm moves to stroke somewhere new, how his spine curves in the center of his back, the smooth curve of his ass. 

“Jongdae,” Minseok pants, interrupting himself repeatedly to kiss Jongdae’s shoulders, suck his collarbone.. “Oh, Jongdae, you chose me when I was convinced I’d leave the ball unmatched. You said you’d belong to no one, but you claimed me so I’m yours. I’m your magicfolk, your mage, yours alone, yours always.”

This declaration sparks need deep in Jongdae’s belly, radiating out from the place where Minseok is going to leave his essence inside of him. He’s never been breached but he  _ knows _ that’s where his core is waiting to absorb the basic building blocks of Minseok, of Jongdae’s gorgeous little mage.

_ His. _ The thought is heady, making Jongdae gulp air like he can’t get enough even though he’s made of the stuff. He needs air because he keeps moaning, loud enough that Minseok has to repeat himself before the elemental truly gets what he’s saying.

“Jongdae. Will you let your mage inside you? I’m yours and I want to give myself to you, only to you, please, Jongdae.”

“Yes,” Jongdae moans in response, spreading his legs wider, lifting his knees to tilt himself toward the mage. 

He isn’t human so he doesn’t need to be stretched but Minseok slides a lubed finger into him anyway, making both of them keen at the sensation.

“You’re tingly inside,” Minseok says, surprised. “Jongdae, you’re going to feel  _ amazing _ around my cock—gods, I’m so lucky. Thank you, Jongdae. For allowing your mage this enormous honor.”

And then Minseok’s pushing into him, slick with lube but thick enough to feel every centimeter of the way into Jongdae’s body. Minseok’s biting his own lip above Jongdae as he bottoms out, looking rather pained for half a second before his face twists, jaw dropping as he groans long and deep. 

“Gods, Jongdae, that tingling,” Minseok pants, shifting his weight to wrap a slippery hand around Jongdae’s cock. “Jongdae,” Minseok says again, stroking him firmly, the friction/not friction novel and overwhelming coupled with the magic whirling in his gut. “Jongdae, feel me. Jongdae, I’m yours.”

And Jongdae can feel it, can feel Minseok’s cock throbbing hard as the mage pours everything out, can feel the cool sensation of Minseok’s magic swirling into the electric heat of his core.

It’s Jongdae’s turn to groan, his essence spurting out of his cock to be caught in Minseok’s fist. And when Jongdae lies spent, Minseok opens his hand to smear Jongdae’s magic over his chest, both of them watching it absorb into the skin until only the thin sheen of the residual lube remains.

With a final hissing grunt, Minseok withdraws and collapses face first into the sheets, making Jongdae chuckle softly and curl around him like he’d wanted since that long night in Minseok’s room. He was right—Minseok fits perfectly into the curve of Jongdae’s body.

The mage sighs, arm draped over Jongdae’s where it wraps around his chest.

“Was that alright?” Minseok mumbles sleepily. “You didn’t feel dominated?”

“No,” Jongdae admits, pressing a kiss into hair that turns out to be as soft and silky as it looks. “No, I felt  _ worshipped.” _


	3. Implantation

It’s all too easy to fall directly in love after that, at least for Minseok. He’s sure it’s not his sexual prowess that had melted the elemental’s defenses, but rather the proof that Minseok would keep to his promise not to subjugate or dominate him in any way. And Minseok sticks to the ownership reversal, too—he’s Jongdae’s mage, and that’s how he introduces them—or more often, how Jongdae introduces them—to anyone new.

And there are a lot of new people to make the acquaintance of at training camp. Besides Chanyeol and Jongin, there are around two dozen other pairs. They’re often drilled by type, separating battlemages, sword sorcerers, warwizards, and combat witches for the mornings and bringing them all back together as a group in the afternoons.

It’s interesting to see the various combinations of magicfolk and familiar, each pair’s main goal to figure out how to work together and use their unique abilities to overcome opponents. Some combinations are obvious winners, like their friends. Jongin’s power form is a barghest, a huge black dog with intimidating red eyes and a rather smoky appearance. Now that they’re bonded, Jongin can share his ability to teleport with his rider, and the pair of them make quite the picture vanishing in a puff of smoke to apparate somewhere else, Chanyeol’s fiery greatsword slashing at thus-far-inanimate foes.

Some are more of a puzzle, like a heat-based sword sorcerer and his hippocamp. But the watery mount can bestow the ability to breathe and see well underwater to her magicfolk, and in turn he can keep his mount warm enough to move quickly even in the coldest ocean. They attack not only with a thin flexible blade that would be nearly useless above the surface, but with jets of boiling water shot from the hippocamp’s equine nostrils or balls of the same launched by her piscine tail.

And then there’s Jongdae and his mage.

Jongdae’s gryphon form is indeed golden-colored and magnificent, all curved beak and hooked talons and fierce dark eyes. And since that first time, the two of them have been bonding  _ a lot. _ Jongdae’s been in Minseok, on Minseok, on top of him and under him. They’ve been face to face, back to front, standing, sitting, and bent over furniture. Any possible way the two of them can connect, they do so. So by the time their month-long training is up, their magic is fully entwined.

This is, to put it bluntly, fucking  _ awesome. _

Whenever Minseok and Jongdae are touching, they can wield each other’s arsenal as easily as their own. Which means that when the battlemage is mounted on the gryphon, Jongdae’s got them shielded with impenetrable ice armor and Minseok is shooting bolts of lightning from the blade of his ice sword to scorch the targets between slicing them up. 

Jongdae’s maneuverability is unmatched, and while he’s not the fastest flat out—that honor goes to a pegasus capable of boosting herself with gusts of tailwind—he’s incredibly swift, especially in a dive (“It’s called a  _ stoop, _ Minseok, I’m not a whale”). He holds his own on the ground, too, his powerful feline haunches capable of maintaining a decent pace between launching him talons-first at the target dummies. They’ve got the fastest time on the obstacle course and are ranked in the top third for accuracy (“It’s hard to hit the center of the target exactly when the bolt obliterates the whole damn thing”).

So Minseok’s pretty confident they’ll be fine clearing out nests of hydras or dens of trolls or whatever the Frontier Defense has them doing. He doesn’t care where they get assigned or what menial newbie chore they’re stuck with at first, because he’ll be with Jongdae. And he loves Jongdae. And he’s pretty sure—based on the fact that the familiar loves telling Minseok he belongs only to Jongdae, always to Jongdae—that Jongdae likes him, too.

  
  
  


There will always be a part of Jongdae that resents being forced to choose between going feral or submitting to a magicfolk’s whims. But given that he was unlucky to coalesce as a familiar rather than an untethered elemental, he was at least lucky enough to end up with Minseok.

The gorgeous little mage is nothing short of delightful and he knows the both of them walk around hand-in-hand with dumb smiles on their faces all the time. Jongdae doesn’t care. He loves Minseok, loves all the gorgeous muscles that he diligently works out to maintain, keeping his physical strength and fitness up even though he fights more with his magic than his might. He loves his beautiful face, loves making it contort with pleasure, wrinkle with annoyance.

He loves lying beside Minseok as the human sleeps, listening to the steady beat of his heart. He loves matching his own breaths to the slow, steady rhythm of Minseok’s own. And he loves waking him in the morning with a chirpy song and kisses on all his prettiest parts, especially the ones between his legs.

He doesn’t care anymore which of them does the fucking. He’s just as happy either way. The configuration they’re in doesn’t change the way they feel about each other or themselves. Minseok respects Jongdae as an independent being, an actual person, someone to consult rather than command. And Jongdae respects Minseok right back, choosing to do little things for the guy—like make him coffee and rub his shoulders—that if he’d been told to do, he’d throw a fit about.

Minseok is always so grateful. Always seems just as pleased and surprised that coffee appears in front of him as he had all the mornings previous. He doesn’t take Jongdae for granted, and he knows Minseok’s more than a little in love with him as well. 

So Jongdae doesn’t mind that after kicking ass during Frontier Defense training, they end up assigned to a remote outpost defending a mountain pass from the odd hill giant and more frequent wyvern strikes. He has Minseok, after all, so he can’t ever be bored. They strengthen their bond several times a day, ensuring Minseok’s essence ends up inside him one way or the other and that Jongdae’s essence ends up in Minseok at least once and absorbed through his skin the rest of the time.

They’re so good at freezing and/or zapping anything that threatens this perilous section of an important trade route that they end up with less and less work to do, which of course means more time for bonding. It’s an entirely enjoyable existence and Jongdae’s content to live it indefinitely.

Then he finds the lump.

Two lumps, actually. 

He hadn’t noticed them in his human shape initially, but one day he shifts into his heart form so he can comfortably perch in the gnarled tree at the closest crossing with a larger road. He’s watching for any travelers that might have reports of monstrous activity along the way. Things have slowed down on their usual patrol route, and Jongdae is itching for a bit of action. He grooms himself to pass the time, cleaning and smoothing his feathers with his tongue on auto pilot until he finds the first one beneath the down on his chest. 

It’s round, about the size of a walnut, and feels sort of rubbery when he licks at it. It shifts a little beneath the surface of his body, like he could slide it to another spot if he nosed at it forcefully enough. It doesn’t hurt and familiars can’t get tumors or infections, so Jongdae finds it very puzzling indeed, worthy of showing Minseok when he gets back.

And just as he’s resumed his grooming, talking himself into believing that there’s no need to panic about it, he finds the second one in his inner thigh.

Familiars don’t have muscles covered by skin although it rather feels like that to someone touching their bodies. But really he’s basically a homogenous mass of elemental magic, and within the mass that forms his eagle thigh, another seemingly-identical lump is embedded.

Remaining calm is no longer an option.

He leaps into the sky, shifting into gryphon form in mid-air so he can beat the sky behind him with massive powerful wings. It’s not that much faster but any other time Jongdae has responded to a threat he’d put on this form and somehow it seems like the right thing to do even if the threat is  _ inside him. _

“Minseok!  _ Minseok!” _

Jongdae’s panicked voice carries well enough that Minseok is running towards him, armored up with ice sword at the ready when Jongdae drops to the earth, scampering the rest of the way to his mage on four feet.

“Tell me,” Minseok says, breathing deep but not short of breath thanks to his strict fitness regimen. 

The mage is sliding to his side, feeling for the straps of the harness that Jongdae didn’t bother to put on. Jongdae keeps turning, keeping Minseok in front of him.

“Min,” he whines. “I have  _ lumps!” _

Minseok freezes. “Lumps?” he repeats, lifting both brows.

“Yes!” Jongdae says, arching his neck so he can preen his chest and part the feathers to show his mage.

Except the lump isn’t there. Neither is the one on his leg. Even when he shifts into an unclothed man so as to see the surface of his body more easily. Nothing.

Baffled, Jongdae shifts into his heart form, only to again find his chest and thigh undistorted.

“I swear they were there, Min,” Jongdae whines as he perches on Minseok’s forearm, leonine face buried in the mage’s neck.

“I don’t think you’re lying,” Minseok soothes, stroking the feathers of his back.

Minseok’s fingers running over him relax Jongdae, and he starts to feel a little foolish. Until Minseok’s fingers stop moving parallel to his spine and start making tiny circles just behind his wing.

“What’s this?” he asks, separating the anzu’s feathers to be able to see better.

Jongdae starts making a continuous high pitched sound, interrupted by babbling including phrases such as “oh fuck it’s real” and “fucking fuck I’m gonna die.”

“We’ll use the Gate,” Minseok says, voice deliberately calm in a way that makes Jongdae keen all the more. “We’ll go see Jun and Xing.”

  
  
  


The keening noise continues as Minseok locks up the watchkeeper’s tower and activates the Gate. Jongdae is perched on his left forearm the whole time, lion ears flattened into his mane, feline face smashed against Minseok’s body. It would be rather cute if the mighty gryphon were ironically reacting this way to seeing a mouse or hearing thunder in the distance, but Jongdae is terrified of something Minseok has no explanation for. 

Minseok is terrified, too, but he freezes the panic in his chest and assumes a fragile mask of Stoic and Responsible, a thin facade over his churning emotions about as effective and opaque as a layer of ice over a whirlpool. He keeps it up only because having both of them whimpering would make it hard to think.

Yixing is in the foyer when the anxious pair steps through and Jongdae immediately launches for his fellow familiar, babbling about lumps and death as the startled earth elemental tries to catch and soothe the heart form of his friend. He looks over Jongdae’s quivering shoulder to where Minseok stands, shifting his weight and chewing his own bottom lip to keep any whimpers trapped inside his throat.

“What’s going on?” 

“He has a lump on his back, just behind his left wing.”

Yixing’s brows shoot up.

“We can’t find them in either of his other forms, but he says there were two lumps when he was an anzu earlier—one on his chest, one embedded in his leg.”

Yixing blinks. “Junmyeon’s in the office doing record-keeping, but I’ll have him meet you in the exam room—it’s just through there.”

Jongdae reaches for Minseok with a trembling wing. Minseok scoops him up from Yixing’s forearm, holding the anzu cradled against himself in a way that Jongdae would normally hate as undignified and patronizing. At the moment, though, he just turns his face to Minseok, muffling his keening against the mage’s chest as he’s carried into the exam room.

Junmyeon is there within moments, gesturing for Minseok to set Jongdae down on an elevated table. Minseok does so, placing Jongdae on his feet so he can part the feathers behind the anzu’s wing and show the healer the bulge beneath.

“Interesting,” Junmyeon says.

Minseok resists the urge to smack his friend.

“And Xing said there were two? But you can’t find them in Jongdae’s other forms?”

Jongdae and Minseok both nod.

“I see. Will you wear your human shape again for me and let me have a look?”

There’s the usual distortion of the elemental‘s shape and then Jongdae’s sitting nude on the exam table. He stands up in response to Junmyeon’s gesture, allowing the cleric to run his hands over the surfaces of his body.

“Ah, here we go,” Junmyeon says, palpating a spot near Jongdae’s hip. 

He pulls his stethoscope from around his neck, wearing it in his ears and placing the diaphragm over the spot as Minseok moves to clasp Jongdae’s hand between his own. Junmyeon listens for a moment, then his face breaks into a smile.

“The other one—or more, I suppose—must currently be somewhere farther from the surface. But this is enough to confirm.”

“Confirm what?” Jongdae asks.

“Congratulations,” Junmyeon says, smile widening. “You’re pregnant.”

  
  
  


“I’m fucking  _ what?” _

Jongdae gapes at Minseok’s friend for long enough that Yixing, evidently drawn by Jongdae’s shriek, comes charging into the room.

“What’s going on?” he asks, eyes darting between the grinning figure to the pair of stunned ones.

“Jongdae’s pregnant,” Junmyeon crows to his familiar. “With twins at least.”

_ “At least?” _

The healer nods. “It’ll be hard to tell for sure until they’re bigger, because at this stage they’re not palpable within wide enough parts of your body if they’re not near the surface.”

There’s a lot of silent blinking from every non-Junmyeon person in the room. Then Yixing’s face breaks into a smile to match his mage.

“That’s great!” he beams. “Wow, Jongdae—you must be so excited!”

_ Excited  _ is not the word Jongdae would use. He slowly turns his head to Minseok, who is clutching Jongdae’s hand to his chest and staring at Junmyeon with an entirely glazed-over expression.

“Minseok.”

The mage jumps at the sound of his name, wide eyes focusing on Jongdae.

“Minseok,” Jongdae says again. “Why am I  _ pregnant.” _

Yixing giggles. “The two of you must have been bonding  _ a lot.” _

Minseok’s face clouds with guilt.

“Uh...” he says.

Jongdae punches him.

Minseok takes the hit as if he deserves it, which he does. He doesn’t even let go of Jongdae’s other hand. He just forms a patch of his ice over the bruising eye and blinks (winks?) at Junmyeon with the other one.

“So what… do we do?” he asks his friend.

Junmyeon gives him a strange look. “The usual, I suppose— 

“No,” Jongdae interrupts flatly. “ _ We _ is quite the euphemism seeing as this fucking nonsense is occurring in  _ my _ body, and  _ I _ won’t be doing ‘the usual’ because  _ there is no fucking usual!”  _ Jongdae finds himself panting, trying unconsciously to intake as much of his element as possible to bolster him against this brain-breaking shit.

“First, elementals don’t get pregnant—we coalesce, we’re not born. Second, even if we did, males don’t get pregnant, and I’m very definitely male.” He gestures to his groin, manhood on display as he’s still standing there nude. “And third, Minseok bottoms for me more than half the time! I only take his load like once or twice a day, so why isn’t  _ he _ the one that’s fucking pregnant?”

Now it’s Junmyeon and Yixing that look a little dazed.

“Wow,” Yixing breathes. “How… often do you bond?”

Jongdae shrugs. “Not more than average. Just, like, when he wakes up, after breakfast, around lunchtime, in the middle of the afternoon, after dinner, and right before bed. Sometimes in the middle of the night.”

The silent blinking convention continues.

“So… You’ve been sharing essence, like, six times a day?”

Jongdae nods in unison with his mage.

“Yep. That’d do it,” Junmyeon chuckles,

Jongdae shifts his eyes to Minseok, brow raised, only to find that the other is mirroring his expression.

Minseok sighs. “Myeon. You know I was grown in a fucking kettle, right? My fathers gave me the birds and the bees talk as applicable to  _ humans, _ but my general understanding was that I popped out of a kettle because  _ guys can’t carry pregnancies. _ Since that is evidently not universally the case, please give me the version of The Talk I evidently should have gotten as a child and stop acting like a smug asshole.”

Junmyeon grins, eyes curving with his obvious amusement at this entire situation. “Well. Since you asked so nicely.”

He hangs the stethoscope back around his neck. “I’m sure you understand how exchanging essence helps strengthen your bond.”

Jongdae and Minseok do bobblehead impressions again.

“So, Minseok’s abilities are really strong. And Jongdae’s really powerful. That’s a lot of magic, and since the pair of you have been mixing it so often—for the record, on average a pair bonds in the range of once or twice a day to once or twice a  _ week— _ your own magic eventually couldn’t incorporate any more of the other’s. Since Minseok’s a human, the excess simply failed to absorb, something you might not notice if it’s usually absorbed internally.”

“But I’m not a human.” Jongdae follows the clerics inference. “And I’m essentially  _ made _ of magic.”

“Correct,” Junmyeon nods. “Released within your form with nowhere else to go, your mage’s essence was basically walled off inside you. This essence capsule then slowly absorbed your essence that surrounded it—along with wisps of Minseok’s that continued to be introduced into the environment—and when enough mixed essence accumulated, it quickened.”

“Quickened?” Minseok echoes.

“Became a being in its own right,” Junmyeon clarifies.

Another beat of silence as Minseok looks at Jongdae with a stricken expression.

“So,” Jongdae says slowly. “You’re saying that we fucked so much that wads of mage jizz built up and absorbed enough of my magic to become alive?”

Junmyeon blushes. “Well, that’s a crude way of putting it—but essentially, yes. Most magicfolk/familiar couples who wish to procreate naturally have to make significant, deliberate effort to bond thoroughly enough for the magicfolk’s essence to encapsulate within the familiar rather than absorb. It takes more effort to maintain that level of bonding long enough for the capsule to start soaking up the familiar’s magic like sperm fertilizes an egg. Technically, Minseok could be considered the mother and you the father.”

“But they’re  _ in me,” _ Jongdae points out. “And they’ll keep feeding from my magic?”

Junmyeon nods. He opens his mouth to say something but Jongdae doesn’t allow him a chance.

“But I  _ need _ my magic,” he objects. “To electrocute Minseok.”

Minseok is still clutching Jongdae’s hand and the familiar feeds a spark along his limb that wouldn’t harm the mage—since their magic is evidently blended  _ too well— _ but certainly surprises him enough to let Jongdae go.

The cleric winces. “You will crave replacement essence as yours is absorbed, meaning you’ll need to bond with your mage quite frequently depending on the number of capsules you’re supporting.”

“I’m so sorry, Dae,” Minseok says, shaking the tingle from his fingers. “I had no idea this could happen. I would never—”

“Save it,” Jongdae snaps. 

He’s not really mad at Minseok, just resentful that yet again, it’s the familiar whose makeup means getting shafted. From literally getting shafted. Scowling, he turns back to Junmyeon and gets down to the most important thing. It’s irrelevant how and why the little nodules got inside him. What matters now is— 

“So what the fuck are growing inside me and how the fuck do I get them out?”

Yixing snickers behind his hand at Junmyeon’s continuing embarrassment at Jongdae’s coarse language. “The offspring of a magicfolk and a familiar are half-human, half elemental, balanced in a way that magicfolk—mostly human with a touch of elemental magic—and elementals—mostly magic with a touch of humanity—are not. These hybrids have a single form, blending aspects of their spirit with an immutable human body. They also tend to have magic more focused and more powerful than either parent.”

Minseok swallows hard enough beside him that Jongdae can actually hear it.

“Bully for them. How do we get them out?”

Junmyeon smiles appeasingly before he even speaks and Jongdae already knows he’s going to hate the answer.

“They will begin to fight the capsule as they grow, weakly at first until their size and strength build. Bonding above and beyond what the familiar needs to replace the drained essence will accelerate their growth, but on average a dual pregnancy lasts for about a year. Longer if there are more than two.”

“A fucking  _ year?” _ Jongdae explodes. “Oh, fuck my life with a poleaxe. I didn’t even want to be a familiar in the first place! Now I’m a fucking broodmare for over a year to have this asshole’s fucking litter of jizzwad babies? There’s no way to get them out sooner? Like,  _ now?” _

The healer shakes his head. “They will emerge when they’re ready—not full grown like an elemental but more developed than a human newborn. You’ll probably be most comfortable in your power form toward the end since the capsules remain the same size in all your forms.”

“Fucking great—I’m going to be a formerly-mighty gryphon riddled with giant jizzlumps. I notice you’re really working hard not to answer the actual question of  _ how the fuck do they come out _ which is making me sure I won’t like the answer.” Jongdae shifts his glare from a cringing Minseok to a cringing Junmyeon.

“You won’t,” Junmyeon confirms. “When the hybrids are developed enough to be able to break the capsule open, they won’t have anywhere to go. Your magic accepts the growing capsules because it forms the outer surface. It recognizes it as self. But when the capsule is breached, your magic will violently reject the foreign entity within your form.”

“So they’ll burst out of me like that alien film?”

“No, an elemental’s magic is too cohesive to be torn open like that. You’ll automatically shift, holding the malleable transition phase as your magic ejects your offspring into the world.”

Jongdae’s done with blinking. “The transition phase hurts like hell and is really fucking disorienting.”

“I know, but—”

Jongdae’s done with everything. “Right. I’m going home.” 

He makes for the Gate, still stark naked and entirely uncaring about that fact. Minseok trails after him, babbling more apologies that won’t actually change the circumstances or make them easier to deal with. He makes to follow Jongdae through the Gate but the familiar whirls to hold out a sparking hand in denial.

“I know this isn’t really your fault—you didn’t do this on purpose and I know you wouldn’t have violated me like this if you’d been aware. But you still did this to me while experiencing zero suffering or inconvenience yourself, so I need to not see your face for a while if you want me not to hate it.”

Looking like he just swallowed a hedgehog whole, Minseok nods, taking a step back.

“Yixing enjoyed the classes about familiar pregnancy and hybrid development,” Junmyeon calls, giving his familiar a quick kiss before prodding him forward. 

“Let me come with you, Jongdae,” Yixing offers, dark eyes soft and sincere as always.

“Fine,” Jongdae allows. “But I want Baek, too. And the others. We’re having a familiars-only sleepover until such time as I don’t hate everything about elementals and especially everything about privileged-ass magicfolk.”

Then he turns on his heel and steps through the Gate, uncaring if Yixing follows or not.

  
  
  


“That went better than expected,” Junmyeon says, sounding far more pleased than he has any right to.

Minseok glares at him. “I’m glad you’re cool with it, because you’ve swapped a lovable unicorn for a fucking irate battlemage as a housemate. And you’re going to spend the entirety of Jongdae’s little magicfolk-hating sleepover explaining every fucking thing about what is happening to him. We’re making  _ lists, _ And  _ charts. _ He’s right that I did this to him whether I intended to or not, and I need to make it up to him for basically the rest of our lives.”

“Oh, stop being so dramatic,” Junmyeon scoffs, touching Minseok’s swollen eyelid with a healing fingertip. “I can tell you’ve been bonding a lot—Jongdae’s actually  _ cold _ now and you’re all over the place.”

“Because the familiar I love is freaking the fuck out and I can’t do anything about it!” Minseok marches Junmyeon toward his office, where there are medical books and color-coordinated office supplies. “ _ Charts, _ Junmyeon. I will stop being ‘all over the place’ when all the information I need is in one easily-accessible location.”

“Yes yes, we’ll get you nice tidy charts. I think having ‘the energy of air’ as your familiar was supposed to help you loosen up but now you’re just compulsive and high-strung.”

“I’m also bonded well enough with Dae to shock your ass as well as freeze it,” Minseok threatens.

“Wow okay  _ touchy,” _ Junmyeon huffs, but he darts behind his imposing desk when icy sparks dance along Minseok’s fingertips. “Right, let me just find the pregnancy charts.” 

He begins rummaging around among the stacks of paper overflowing from the top of his desk, moving on to opening and shutting drawers and rifling through overfilled shelves. Minseok can only roll his eyes and wait for his untidy friend to find what he’s looking for in the post-cyclonic state of his office. He deliberately ignores the mug harboring crusted residue, the single rollerskate, the industrial-sized jar of iridescent glitter, and  _ especially _ the pair of smiley-face boxers hanging over the back of his chair.

“Ah, here we go. It’s quite analogous to a human pregnancy— which I suppose isn’t useful information to Mr. I-hatched-from-a-pot.”

“I wasn’t  _ hatched,” _ Minseok grumbles. “But you’re right that I’m entirely ignorant beyond the fact that putting sperm in a working uterus can cause pregnancy and it generally lasts nine months.”

Junmyeon laughs. “Unfortunately, the information I have for you is almost as vague.” 

He hands Minseok a printout that claims to be a timeline. However, there are no actual durations listed, just a bunch of symptoms along with rough size comparisons for the “capsules” that evidently contain new life. There are separate rows on the chart corresponding to number of babies, increasing in the amount of drama and the speed with which it arrives. 

Contrary to the dire list of symptoms, the chart is written in chirpy language and Minseok quickly takes a few photos of the information with his phone before folding it up and putting it in his pocket. If Jongdae ever sees the curlicue font and syrupy text he will shred the chart and probably find a way to injure Minseok with the remains.

“I’m writing you some prescriptions for supplements and boosters that you’ll want to get filled right away,” Junmyeon says, scribbling on a pad in the illegible way of all medical professionals everywhere.

Minseok frowns. “Jongdae needs supplements?” 

“ _ You _ need supplements,” Junmyeon corrects. “The two of you evidently have vigorous libidos as it is, and in between hating you he’s going to be tackling you. The hybrids are formed from your essence as much as his, and to prevent them from overdraining Jongdae’s magic you’ll need to provide that essence even more frequently.”

Minseok swallows as Junmyeon hands him a stack of prescriptions.

“You’re not going to be able to keep up either physically or magically, but starting these supplements as soon as possible will help build your essence reserves and delay needing to rely on boosters.”

Junmyeon hands him another stack of prescriptions.

“Give Jongdae what he needs, but take extra care of yourself, too. The boosters are… not pleasant, so the longer you can put off having to use them the easier it will be on you.” Junmyeon offers a wan smile. “And considering that Jongdae certainly doesn’t seem like he’ll be easy on you, take every bit of comfort you can.”

Standing up, Junmyeon sheds the stethoscope and doctor’s coat, hanging them over the back of the chair beside the underwear Minseok is still refusing to think about.

“Come on, Min. Try to remember that this is a natural process that people strive to achieve. This is good. You’ll be fine.” He rests a comforting hand on Minseok’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Now let’s go make up the guest room for you. After that we can order takeout and watch movies. It’s been over a month since I’ve watched the entire Star Wars series from the beginning.”

The chart in Minseok’s pocket says Jongdae’s going to experience mood swings over the coming months, but at the moment Minseok’s the one who wants to cry.

Jongdae frowns at his friends. They’re all standing there, staring at him in shock (and more than a little terror) except for Yixing, who’s already knitting booties that look way too big for any baby Jongdae’s ever seen. Where the unicorn got the yarn and needles Jongdae has no idea.

Baekhyun is staring at Jongdae with a shrewd expression. “This is a joke, right? Hidden camera prank? You’re going to make us all panic and then mock us for believing something so ridiculous?”

Jongdae releases an exasperated huff. “You’re not supposed to panic! You’re supposed to comfort me!”

“But you just said weird hybrids are growing inside you and that they’re stuck there until they’re big enough to rip their way out. And it was caused by bonding, which all of us do regularly,” Jongin says. “I mean, it absolutely sucks to be you right now, no doubt. But the same thing could happen to any of us, and no offense to the happy family lurking within you, but I want nothing whatsoever to do with any of that horror.”

“I don’t want anything to do with it either!” Jongdae whines. “You’re supposed to, like, help me come up with a plan.”

“To go back in time?” Teakwoon asks.

“Noooo!” Jongdae crosses his arms over his chest. “To murder Minseok.”

“But you love Minseok,” Baekhyun points out. “I mean, don’t you?”

“Of course I do! But this is his fault even if it’s not his fault and he needs to suffer with me.”

“Oh, he’ll suffer, alright,” Jongin mutters.

“Actually, he will,” Yixing says with sympathetic eyes. “He’s going to be just as fatigued as you with the added burden of sleep deprivation. He’ll probably stress-eat and get fat. Which will make it harder for him to run around and do everything you’ll demand that he do. And his dick will end up really chafed and raw and painful.”

Yixing calmly resumes his knitting, humming a lullaby under his breath.

The other four familiars stare at each other.

“Well. Sounds like life will suck for everyone henceforth. Since we can’t do anything to change that, let’s ignore it and watch Disney movies for days.”

Jongdae shuffles forward to slump against his best friend. “Thanks, Baekkie,” he says, feeling strangely close to tears. “You’re the best.”

“Damn straight.”

  
  
  


Minseok doesn’t get a text from Jongdae for almost four days.

> _ ran out of disney movies and im really tired xing says its cuz the plaguelumps need your jizz so you can come home i guess _

He and Junmyeon trade serious expressions when he shows his friend the message.

“Good luck, soldier,” Junmyeon says with a salute. 

“It’s been an honor and a pleasure,” Minseok responds in kind before he forces himself to Gate home.

Jongdae is lying naked on the bed when Minseok arrives, lube bottle in hand.

“Hurry up and fill me with baby batter,” he says dully. “The plague lumps are eating me alive.”

Minseok pulls off his shirt before cautiously approaching the bed. He’ll take care of Jongdae however he must, but it would be a lot more pleasant if the familiar didn’t try to take his head off in the process like a praying mantis.

“Dae?” The mage cautiously glides a palm over one sprawled leg, frowning a little at the noticeably-bigger lump near the familiar’s hip.

“Mm.”

Happy with the neutral response but also becoming more worried about the familiar’s wellbeing, Minseok sheds his pants and underwear and climbs into bed. Moving slowly so that Jongdae would have plenty of time to pull away (and so Minseok can hopefully dodge any further fists), he lies down next to Jongdae.

Jongdae listlessly hands him the lube. Minseok takes it.

“Can I hold you and kiss you a little first? I really missed you. I was worried.  _ Am _ worried.”

“‘M so tired,” Jongdae whines, but he lets Minseok cuddle up to him without protest.

“I know, Dae,” Minseok murmurs. He presses a kiss against one of the high cheekbones he loves so much. “Am I still your mage?” he asks.

Jongdae nods. “I’m not mad at you. I just hate not having a choice. But you didn’t have a choice, either, so I guess let’s do this thing together.”

Minseok relaxes, shifting to kiss Jongdae’s lips. The familiar responds readily if a little less than vigorously, further easing Minseok’s fears. 

“That’s right, Dae,” he says softly between kisses. “I’m your mage, and I’m gonna be right here with you. I’m going to do everything possible to ease this situation for you. I love you.”

“I love you too, I guess,” Jongdae grumbles before leaning up a little to kiss Minseok a little more.

It’s enough encouragement that Minseok’s body begins to perk up, delighting as always in the taste of the electric elemental. Their friends like to joke that it must be like licking a battery, but while Jongdae’s essence has a metallic tang, his mouth only tastes clean and fresh. Jongdae often feeds Minseok little shocks from his tongue but this time Jongdae responds without flourish, unwilling or unable to tease.

Minseok slicks himself and slides inside without preamble, setting an efficient pace that he knows will bring him off quickly. He reaches for Jongdae’s cock in order to tug him along, but the air elemental isn’t even fully hard.

“I don’ wanna come this time,” Jongdae mumbles, mouthing at Minseok’s neck. “Just fill me, my mage.”

Jongdae’s claim makes Minseok’s heart fly and he lets his libido chase after it. Jongdae still loves him, still claims him, accepts that they’re in this together and neither of them are at fault. Minseok still has to reach for his climax a little, rushing it rather than letting it build naturally, but this isn’t about his enjoyment. This is about taking care of Jongdae, so Minseok endures the rather unsatisfying climax without complaint. 

As usual, Jongdae clenches around him as he withdraws, trapping as much essence within his body as possible. Minseok lowers himself to the sheets beside Jongdae, wrapping an arm around him and pressing his cheek against Jongdae’s shoulder. 

A moment later, Jongdae stirs. He rolls to face Minseok, giving him a little smile.

“Thanks,” he says softly. “I already feel a little better.”

“Good,” Minseok murmurs, kissing Jongdae’s forehead. “I’ll give you more as soon as I can.” He hopes it won't be too long. He’d already started taking the ridiculous number of supplements Junmyeon prescribed.

Jongdae’s eyebrows scrunch in sympathy. “Yixing said your dick was gonna chafe.”

Minseok smiles sheepishly. “Junmyeon prescribed me a cream for that,” he says. “And I bought thicker lube to help stave off the inevitable. I can endure a bit of discomfort to keep you healthy.”

“Us,” Jongdae corrects. “And thank you. The plague lumps and I appreciate it.”

Minseok snorts. “Are you really gonna refer to them as plague lumps?”

“Yes,” Jongdae nods. “They’ll plague us for life even after I get them out of me. I’m calling them Hanta and Ebola.”

Minseok laughs. “You are not.”

“Watch me,” Jongdae challenges, cuddling closer to his mage.


	4. Confinement

For a while, things feel almost normal. They keep up their regular bonding sessions, which are both the cause of and the solution to their current predicament. They go on their usual patrols. They kick occasional wyvern ass. But Jongdae doesn’t transform into his anzu shape anymore—the last time he had, one of the lumps had ended up in the middle of his wing and that was both painful and freaky-looking, and he’s not in a hurry to experience that again.

The plague lumps change place every time he shifts from human to gryphon and back and sometimes he has to re-shift if they end up somewhere inconvenient. They’re around the size of his fist which means they don’t yet stretch any part of his human form to painful extents, but once one of them ended up directly on his ass making it awkward to sit down. He knows it’s only a matter of time until it’s awkward to do everything.

They seem to be growing quickly and Jongdae’s not sure how he feels about that. It means that they’ll erupt from his body sooner—he refuses to use a less-violent term for a process that’s going to involve both agony and insanity—but that also means he’ll have to face the reality of fatherhood sooner and he has so far shied away from thinking about that too deeply.

As long as Hanta and Ebola are inside of him, he only has to worry about himself. He chooses to worry about Minseok, too, but deep down he knows the mage is a grown-ass man who can make his own damn coffee. Yixing had assured him that nothing he could do during the pregnancy could cause any harm to the lumps, so he’s free to continue normal activities until the lumps got too big for comfort. So he can basically pretend he has some disease like a human, bitching about his symptoms but ultimately ignoring their cause.

Once the lumps erupt, Jongdae—and Minseok, of course, that fucker’s not getting out of any part of this whatsoever—will have two whole other lives to look after. Dependent lives, because while Hanta and Ebola will be inside of him long enough to develop into the equivalent of a human three-year-old, they’re still going to need a lot of guidance as they grow up. Their intellect will need to be nurtured along with their wisdom, and Jongdae has never really been around anyone who didn’t have the reasoning power of an adult (even if they often chose not to use it). 

But as the lumps continue to grow, Jongdae’s feelings shift toward the “erupt as soon as possible” side of the scale quite completely—unless he’s having one of the irrational mood swings that are evidently caused by his own magic being unavoidably out of balance as it’s siphoned to nurture the lumps.

“I want to keep them inside me forever where they’re safe,” Jongdae finds himself sobbing into Minseok’s shoulder out of the blue one afternoon. “They’ll be squishy and breakable like your fragile human ass and it’s going to be so, so hard to protect them all the time.”

“I know, Dae,” Minseok soothes. “But your mage will be right beside you helping to keep them safe. Everything will be fine.”

His arms are strong and sturdy around the familiar and it’s stupid but Jongdae appreciates that more now than he used to. He’s always appreciated Minseok’s physique from an aesthetic standpoint, but now there’s some dumb part of his mind that thinks things like the mage was a good choice to breed with because he’s strong enough to protect their young and he’ll hopefully have passed his strength to them as well.

It makes him feel creepy, like he’s evaluating his mage like a prize bull or something, and while Minseok has certainly been doing his duty as far as contributing his own essence for the plague lumps to devour, Jongdae hadn’t agreed to partner with him for stud service reasons. He did it for freedom and for ass-kicking, and right now neither of those are a part of his life.

“This is so dumb,” Jongdae sniffles. “I want my body back to myself because I hate feeling like I’m just along for the ride inside my own shape. So I want them out of me but also I  _ don’t _ want them out and I am super annoyed at myself for being so irrational about this.”

“You’re allowed to be irrational,” Minseok says, stroking Jongdae’s hair. “Because you’re sweet as pie, and pi is always irrational.”

Jongdae goes completely still in Minseok’s arms. “You did not just,” he accuses, but Minseok is now giggling against him.

“Oh come on, that was funny!” he chides.

“That was terrible. You’re terrible. Oh my gods the lumps are going to be terrible and I will be surrounded by terrible for the rest of my life.”

“Absolutely,” Minseok agrees, resting one hand on the now-grapefruit-sized lump protruding from Jongdae’s back. “We’ll gang up on you and force you to become terrible like us. We’ll all be terrible together.”

“Noooo,” Jongdae whines, but he’s doing so with a smile on his lips. 

Minseok’s humor is dumb but it’s distracting enough to redirect Jongdae’s runaway moods. The mage never complains about how long their patrols take now because Jongdae has to land, shift into a form small enough to be bear hugged, then cry on Minseok randomly because the sun in the trees is just so beautiful or because the wind smells like skunk and it’s super gross.

Minseok tolerates the escalating essence requirements well, too, even if Jongdae wakes up in the middle of the night desperate for it. He’s given the familiar blanket permission to coax his body to cooperate whether the mage is awake or not, and only smiles sleepily up at Jongdae when he wakes up to the familiar already riding him.

Whenever they bond—up to seven times daily in addition to once or twice overnight—Minseok asks Jongdae if he wants to come. If Jongdae wants sexual release as well as physical, Minseok always puts in a little more effort to make Jongdae feel sexy and desired and completely adored. He tells Jongdae he loves him the other times, too, but it’s definitely much more succinct an experience if Minseok only has to make himself climax. 

He doesn’t even look like he particularly enjoys it when he climaxes alone, but when he’s bonding with Jongdae for Jongdae’s pleasure and not just for the needs of the plague lumps, then the familiar gets to see his mage’s face scrunch and go slack, hear him moan in satisfaction, see him grin so happily when Jongdae finds his release too. 

Jongdae usually comes onto his own stomach or into his own fist, resorbing his own essence like he had all those years he’d taken pleasure without penetration. But once a day his mage kneels for him, takes Jongdae into his mouth, swallowing a dose of essence to keep their bond maintained as a two-way connection. It also keeps their relationship maintained as a two-way partnership.

Jongdae hadn’t wanted to be the familiar that got fucked all the time for his enslaver’s benefit but being fucked all the time for the benefit of the unplanned passengers in his body sometimes feels like another form of slavery. He doesn’t begrudge the plague lumps for existing—they had no more choice in this scenario than anyone else. But that doesn’t mean Jongdae is okay with having his sex life dictated for him. He’s even less okay with the fact that the demands of the lumps will soon be dictating far more than that.

Again, the luck of having Minseok be the one at his side balances out the bad luck of being knocked up in the first place. He’s incredibly grateful that he claimed this mage and no other. He’s especially grateful for Minseok the day he develops his first craving.

They’re patrolling low over a valley one morning when Jongdae notes that the air of the poplar forest they’re flying over clings in his throat, feeling almost sticky.

“I need mountain air,” Jongdae declares, then promptly wheels to change their flight path directly up the closest mountainside.

Minseok asks no questions, merely rubs the feathers at the base of the gryphon’s neck as Jongdae gains enough altitude for the air to be just a bit thinner and a lot more crisp. And he makes no objections when Jongdae decides that he needs to sprawl out on a rocky ledge and inhale huge gulps of this air, eyes closed in pleasure. Minseok just unclips himself from the harness so he can dismount, coming around to rub the base of one of Jongdae’s feathery ear tufts just the way he likes. They stay like that for the better part of an hour, after which Jongdae sheepishly apologizes, Minseok shrugs it off, and they return to their patrol.

But the plague lumps are growing quickly, and Jongdae knows things must get worse before they get better—if they ever get better at all.

  
  
  


“Minseok.”

Minseok tumbles from a dream about playing basketball with his friends at the academy. He’d been merely okay at the sport and it hadn’t been a huge part of his life growing up, but ever since he’d noticed the plague lumps were about the size of the balls they’d used to throw around, he’d find basketballs waiting for him in sleep.

“Mmmph,” Minseok grunts, prying open one eye.

It’s still dark so Minseok automatically reaches for his groin, assuming Jongdae needs essence and couldn’t get the mage’s sleeping body to cooperate.

“No, not that. Minseok. I need sea air.”

There’s a pause as Minseok tries to parse the familiar’s words. “You need to see air?” he asks, unsure if he’s dreaming or not.

“No,” Jongdae huffs. “I need to breathe sea air. Air coming off the ocean. There’s not a beach near here and I don’t know the best place to Gate to but I have to have it, Minseok.”

“Right now?”

_ “Yes, _ right now!”

“Okay, Dae. We’ll go find sea air.” 

Minseok has only been sleeping two or three hours in a row before Jongdae needs more essence, and he is not excited at all about getting out of bed and going to find a beach in the middle of the night. But he’s less excited about failing to find a beach and having to deal with a violently hysterical familiar. So he pulls on a pair of basketball shorts without bothering with underwear, shoves his phone in the pocket, tugs a T-shirt over his head and holds his hands out.

Whimpering, Jongdae eases himself awkwardly from the bed, stabilizing himself with Minseok’s grip. One of the plague lumps is currently embedded between what would be a human’s shoulder blades and the other is bulging out of his left thigh. It’s harder and harder for him to move with these heavier and heavier distortions of his form but he tolerates awkward placements as long as they aren’t so awkward as to be painful. But these particular placements mess with his balance, so Minseok continues to support him with an arm around his narrow waist.

Jongdae hadn’t liked giving up their patrols but the lumps are big enough to also make him awkward in the air unless they’re both nestled in his torso, forcing him to shift painfully over and over again until Hanta and Ebola cooperate. Jongdae’s tough but he ends up in tears by the end of it, not only because of the pain and frustration but also because it makes him think about the unpleasant “eruption” that awaits him at the end of this ordeal.

They may have a relatively quiet patrol thanks to their previous vigorous efforts but it still needs to be maintained. After crying for the better part of an hour over his own guilt and frustration at not being able to do it himself, Jongdae finally agreed to let Chanyeol and Jongin take over their duties. He did  _ not _ want them sharing their home indefinitely even if he loves having Jongin and his other pals over for visits, so the substitute pair merely teleport to the patrol route from their own home, checking in with Minseok and Jongdae before they teleport home for the night.

So the pair are alone as they make their way carefully to the Gate, Jongdae muttering about ocean breeze and Minseok trying to jog his sleepy brain into remembering which of their Gate destinations is closest to a beach.

“How about the lake near the Frontier Defense headquarters?”

“Noooo, it has to be  _ sea _ air.”

“Okay, okay.” 

Minseok racks his brain, then remembers Hakyeon’s new position. He pulls out his phone and dials, wincing at the time.

“Hey, Hak—yes, I know what time it is. I’m really sorry. Jongdae needs to visit the seaside right now, though, and I remembered— Yes. Neither Dae or I have been there before, though, and since Taekwoon came to visit Jongdae— Thanks. I owe you.”

He shoves the phone back in his pocket so he can wrap both arms around a now-teary Jongdae who is apologizing profusely for being such a bother. 

“You can’t help it, there’s no point in being upset about something that just  _ is. _ You’re enduring so much, the least I can do is get you where the plague lumps demand you be.”

“They’re jerks already,” Jongdae whines, wiping his face on Minseok’s shirt.

Minseok tolerates this only because the familiar is leaking essence which will merely absorb into him anyway. “That’s probably my fault,” he accepts.

“You’re not a jerk.” Jongdae objects.

“I’m glad you still think so,” Minseok says.

The Gate hums and swirls open and Taekwoon steps through, the gargoyle’s face going from stony to alarmed at the sight of Jongdae and the lumps. But true to form (and lucky for all of them) the earth elemental says nothing, merely stepping back so Minseok can help Jongdae through the gate.

A gut-twisting second later they’re in the airy beach bungalow from which Hakyeon and his familiar study the weather, his bond with the insulating earth elemental allowing him to summon storms and move freely through them with no fear of high winds or lightning strikes.

Minseok shouldn’t fear lightning, either, but even though he’s immune to being damaged by Jongdae’s outbursts they still aren’t pleasant to endure. So he takes one look at the long path down to the sandy beach and shifts to offer Jongdae his back.

“I know you’re strong enough to walk, Dae, but your mage is needy and wants to carry you. Will you indulge me?”

Jongdae snorts, not at all falling for Minseok’s repackaging of the situation. “I guess,” he says, playing along anyway.

“Thank you, Dae.”

Taekwoon watches this display silently, holding the bungalow door open to allow Minseok to carry Jongdae smoothly out. It’s a bit awkward since the lump on Jongdae’s thigh is too far toward the middle to allow the familiar to wrap his legs around Minseok’s waist properly, but the mage just locks his arms beneath Jongdae’s ass instead, carrying him high enough that his dangling leg doesn’t drag on the ground.

“Watching you be strong like this is making me want to fuck you,” Jongdae reports, already sounding steadier. 

“I’m yours whenever you want me,” Minseok replies.

He winces a little because he hadn’t thought to grab any lube. But his reluctance is hidden from the familiar on his back and will remain so—he will endure a dry, sandy fuck on a chilly beach in the middle of the night because Jongdae has essentially become the Hunchback of Notre Dame and that’s got to be worse. 

But he’s not at all sorry when they make it to the soft sand of the beach and Jongdae just wants to sit there and breathe, inhalations noisy and exhalations more like satisfied sighs. He’s fidgety, uncomfortable in most positions, and he keeps scootching around, ending up moving himself halfway down the beach to Minseok’s fond amusement.

“You’re going to end up in the water,” the mage cautions.

Jongdae pauses. “Yes. I want to be in the water.”

Minseok’s brows lift but he helps Jongdae wiggle further toward the waterline, gentle waves rolling up smooth sand. He can’t help but feel alarmed when Jongdae flops over to lay in the path of the waves, the water washing around his face triggering human fears of drowning not relevant to the elemental. Minseok bites his lip but holds his tongue, also holding Jongdae’s non-lumpy leg when the waves threaten to drag him further down the beach as they retreat.

“Let me go deeper,” Jongdae pleads when he realizes what’s holding him back. “At least one of these plague lumps must have a water affinity.”

Minseok blinks, frozen with the thought. “W-water?” he says stupidly. “Because of me?”

Jongdae wiggles closer to the ocean. “Duh, because of you. This whole situation is because of you, remember?” 

Oh, Minseok remembers. But he hadn’t really thought about it. He’d been concerned about Jongdae first and foremost ever since the panicked gryphon landed in front of him babbling about lumps. Only later did he start to care about the lumps as well. But they’d just been “Jongdae and the lumps.” He hadn’t fully internalized the fact that the plague lumps were  _ his _ lumps, too.

“Dae,” he breathes as he slowly lets the air elemental float out a little further, still naturally buoyant despite the lumps. “Dae, I’m gonna be a father.”

He’s standing waist-deep in the ocean by that point, holding the floating familiar by the ankle. Jongdae tsks and lifts his head from the water to give Minseok a judging look.

“Uh, yeah. You’ve known this for months now.”

“But I forgot,” Minseok says stupidly. “I mean,  _ you _ were going to be a father. I was only… helping?”

“Oh, you  _ helped _ alright,” Jongdae chuckles. “But I think I get it. They’re not in you—even though Jun said you’re technically the mother—so they don’t feel like yours.”

Minseok shakes his head. “I feel like yours, though,” he says, spinning Jongdae gently in the water so he can hold him by the shoulders instead.

“You are. And they are. But all three of us are yours, too.”

Touched, Minseok bends to kiss  _ his _ familiar, carrier of  _ his _ lumps. And if a little extra saline ends up in the sea, Minseok can’t be bothered to care.

  
  
  


The pregnancy had always felt real to Jongdae, of course. The plague lumps were hard to ignore from the beginning, but he also felt like he’d been managing an illness at first rather than supporting growing beings. It’s really cute to watch Minseok’s little midnight epiphany as Jongdae lets the saltwater support the lumps in a way that his own element fails to adequately do anymore, easing the strain on his body for a few hours.

He really feels like he belongs there, where air meets water, sky meets sea. Breathing deep the mineraline breeze and drifting on the gentle waves. Air and water make a good pair. Hopefully they’ll make a good family, too. 

He’s all squishy and emo afterwards, full of starry-eyed thoughts about his mage and their lumps. The feeling lasts for the next few weeks until the ever-growing lumps decide that being uncomfortable and inconvenient isn’t enough. Turns out they have to be creepy as fuck on top of everything else.

Minseok is fully enjoying a bonding session for once, smiling affectionately and kissing Jongdae slowly but ardently. Jongdae’s enjoying it too, even if one of the beach-ball-sized lumps is lodged off-center in his abdomen, making Jongdae curl around it if he wants to be able to get his mouth on Minseok’s.

So Jongdae isn’t sure at first if the unusual sensation he’s feeling is his own arousal clenching in his core, the sensation a little strange in this odd hunched position. But then Minseok manages to get a hand wrapped around Jongdae’s dick where it’s weeping between them and the air elemental is very aware of exactly what his arousal feels like as Minseok slowly builds it up with hands and mouth and cock.

“Min, I can feel it moving in me.”

“Mmh, yeah, Dae. I want you to feel it.”

Jongdae rolls his eyes even though Minseok’s sucking on his neck and can’t see his exasperation. 

“Not your dick. The lump.”

“Oh, am I squashing it?” Minseok lifts more of his weight off of Jongdae, using both arms to keep himself suspended.

This means Jongdae can easily grab Minseok’s face and bring it opposite his own. 

“Minseok, Hanta is  _ moving. _ Inside me. There’s an actual living thing inside me and it’s moving and oh hell it’s super creepy, how do we make it stop?”

Minseok blinks at him. “Um. I think people are usually happy about the feel-the-baby-move thing.”

“It’s  _ weird,” _ Jongdae whines. “You humans have, like, stuff moving around in your guts all the time or whatever. My body is nice and sensationless on the inside, or at least it’s supposed to be. I’m not supposed to feel freaky little fluttery things, Min.”

Jongdae blinks away irrational tears, trying to get Minseok to see the gravity of the situation. “Min, I can’t handle them wiggling around in me for months and months until they’re big enough to—” The tears start to spill despite his determination. “Min, they’re  _ practicing. _ For the eruption.”

“Oh, Dae,” Minseok says, wrapping his arms around the familiar’s shoulders. “I’m sorry I can’t make it less creepy. But you’re so uncomfortable all the time now. The lumps are only going to get bigger—maybe you’d feel better in your power form. There would be more room for the lumps, and maybe you wouldn’t notice their movements as much.”

Jongdae starts to cry harder, making Minseok hiss as the sobs cause him to clench rhythmically around the mage’s cock. “But I want to sleep with you. In our bed. I don’t want to be too big to c-cuddle. And I can’t kiss you. O-or bond.”

“Maybe you don’t have to be a gryphon all the time,” Minseok starts, then a pained look crosses his face before he shakes it off. “Dae. Let your mage please you right now, mmh? Let’s feel good together, and then we’ll figure this out together. Always together, Dae. I’m with you, I’m yours, and you’re mine. We’ve taken out an entire band of settler-eating bugbears, right? We’re not going to be defeated by a pair of lumps.”

_ “Creepy _ lumps,” Jongdae clarifies through his tears. “Creepy plague lumps.”

Minseok smiles, kissing the tears from his cheeks and then his mouth. “I’m here. I’m yours, and I’m gonna make you feel good, Dae.”

He rolls his hips again, looking down at Jongdae like he’s a whole meal about to be devoured. He leans back down on one arm to kiss Jongdae and work a hand between them again, still murmuring reassurances that Jongdae likes hearing even if part of him wants to sass that the lumps are still going to be creepy whether Minseok’s beside him or not. 

Jongdae lets Minseok work him over, trying to relax into the mage’s touch. He closes his eyes and focuses on how peaceful and perfect it was when he was floating in the ocean, tethered by Minseok’s hands. And Minseok’s hands are on him now, one wrapped beneath his neck to clasp his shoulder, one wrapped around his dick and stroking it firmly. And Minseok is moving in him, the sensation welcome and reassuring, as rhythmic and relaxing as the ocean waves that had gently pulled him into the sea.

He moans into Minseok’s mouth, partly because he feels good and partly because he knows Minseok likes that, likes any sign that Jongdae’s enjoying what they do together. And it hasn’t exactly been enjoyable most of the time lately, having become an often-uncomfortable chore depending on where the now beach-ball-sized lumps had ended up. Shifting has become more painful, like his essence is finding it difficult to contain the lumps while staying true to Jongdae’s intrinsic self.

But at the moment he’s not in too much pain, the lumps aren’t too distracting, and his mage is doing his best to make Jongdae feel good. And Jongdae wants to feel good, both for his own sake and to reward the mage who has devoted himself to Jongdae’s every comfort without complaint.

“Min,” he sighs. “My Minseok. I love you so much. You always take good care of me. Always so  _ good—” _

Minseok squeezes him a little tighter and Jongdae slides over the precipice into ecstasy, groaning deep and satisfied. The mage catches Jongdae’s spend in his fist, making to spread it over Jongdae’s chest to resorb. But Jongdae grabs Minseok’s hand and brings it to his mouth, licking off the mess of essence smeared across Minseok’s palm. Minseok stares, entirely rapt, and when Jongdae smirks over his tongue at the mage, Minseok’s eyes flutter closed as he climaxes.

“Dae,” Minseok breathes. “Jongdae. My Dae.”

Jongdae kisses his mage as he recovers and eventually pulls out. Minseok flops down beside him and pulls Jongdae into his arms, cuddling him close as the post-orgasm drowsiness sweeps over the human.

Not subject to such things, Jongdae lies quiet in Minseok’s embrace, trying to ignore the growing pain in his leg and the flutters in his belly and calf.

  
  
  


Jongdae does not like being left alone at all these days so Minseok calls Junmyeon and Yixing to come visit rather than attempting to haul his poor familiar to the healer’s hut. Yixing comes bouncing in, already such a frequent visitor that a whole basket of his knitting things sits by the bed so the occasionally-absent-minded earth elemental doesn’t have to run back and forth for things he forgets. 

“Jongdae, you’re absolutely glowing! Pregnancy looks good on you.”

The wolpertingicorn has said this to Jongdae before and has earned the same judgmental glare of denial that Jongdae is currently roasting him with. This has never stopped him from climbing into bed with Jongdae and his knitting, chatting or singing or just sitting silently as the air elemental tolerates.

Jongdae’s not tolerating much today, still entirely disturbed by the sensations from the plague lumps. He’s admitted to being in constant pain from the one in his calf, it having outgrown the human form’s ability to stretch. But Jongdae won’t shift with the hopes of repositioning it because the gradual pain of the overstretching is more manageable than the shocking pain of assuming human form and having it end up somewhere it won’t really fit, which at this point is everywhere but chest and abdomen. 

The likelihood of both lumps ending up in his torso is incredibly low, too low to be worth the pain of multiple shiftings and the pain of repeatedly reforming around the lumps in too-small locations. Minseok hates to see his familiar suffering and hopes Jun can coax him into shifting to his power form for the remainder of the pregnancy, even if it makes bonding problematic. 

“You’re progressing quickly,” Junmyeon says to Jongdae after he finishes encircling each lump with a flexible measuring tape. “I’d guess you’re around eighty percent there, though sometimes the last twenty percent of the growth takes more than twenty percent of the time.”

Jongdae continues pouting at both of them, head cradled in Yixing’s lap.

Turning away from the unresponsive familiar, Junmyeon hands Minseok yet another bag of supplements and a large bottle of tonic. “You’ve probably forgotten that you know this, but blood carries a mage’s essence, too.”

Minseok blinks. Of course it does. Sharing blood was actually the original method of bonding with a familiar and it’s still commonly used by female magicfolk and male pairs that choose not to couple up.

“Dae, that’s how I can bond with you while you’re in your power form,” Minseok says, immediately making the connection he’d been too sleep-deprived to think of himself (or so he’s choosing to believe).

Unsurprisingly, Jongdae starts crying again. “I don’t wanna drink your blood!” he wails.

He buries his face against Yixing’s thigh and sobs. The earth elemental winces a little when Jongdae’s tears soak through his jeans—as earth’s opposite, the airy essence burns against his surface. 

“Jongdae, look at me,” Minseok coaxes, crawling on to the bed. “Dae, my love, you’re hurting your friend.”

This realization makes Jongdae cry harder and babble apologies that Yixing waves away, saying he knew Jongdae was involuntarily volatile and should have thought to put a pillow in his lap for Jongdae to rest against. But Minseok manages to get the ungainly heap of distraught air elemental into his own lap where at least his tears will do the exhausted mage some good.

“Dae,” he croons. “I know you don’t want this. You haven’t wanted any of this and you’ve put up with so much already. And I’m sorry that I can’t take at least one of them into my own body to carry for you, and I’m sorry that there’s not much I can do at this point to make it easier on you. I love you, and it’s hard for your mage to see you suffer.”

Minseok strokes Jongdae’s hair as he talks, trying hard to soothe him back to a more rational state (or as close as he can feasibly get these days). He keeps murmuring acknowledgements of how hard it has been for Jongdae and how much Minseok cares about him. 

“B-but if I’m my gryphon then you’re going to suffer, too,” Jongdae mourns.

Minseok shrugs. “I’m already suffering. This will just be a new kind. But you didn’t have a choice to take this on. I do have a choice in how to do my part, and while I’ll miss your kisses and being wrapped in each other’s arms, I’d much rather bleed for a grumpy gryphon than have to fuck the inconsolably-painful distorted human shape that you’d become.”

“Because I would be all gross and lumpy.” The tears threaten to escalate again.

“No, of course not. Because seeing you in pain is a real boner-killer. Fucking someone who’s crying is absolutely not my kink.”

This gets a moist chuckle.

“You’re eighty percent done, love. Let me bear a little pain and fatigue to save you from agony for this last little bit. You’ll be so much more comfortable, it’ll make my heart lighter even if my body feels heavier. You’ll be able to move around more. We can go back to the beach. You liked the beach.”

Jongdae wrinkles his nose. “Ugh, if I breathe ocean air right now I will figure out a way to throw up despite not being physically able to do so. But Yixing smells really good. I want earthy air. I don’t care if it’s opposite, I need to breathe earthiness right now.”

Minseok lifts his head to shoot Junmyeon a questioning look. The cleric had been standing quietly as Minseok had soothed his familiar, but now he gives Minseok an easy smile.

“Jongdae, would you like to visit Baekhyun and Kyungsoo? I’m sure Baek would love to show you around the cave they’re harvesting.”

The pregnant elemental struggles to sit up. “Yes, a cave,” he says as Minseok supports him into an upright position. “I want to breathe cave air, Min. I want to see all my friends.”

“Then caving we will go,” Minseok agrees. “But Baek’s not strong enough to carry you in this form right now. Can you shift to make it easier?”

Jongdae cuts his eyes up to Minseok’s aegyo-widened ones. “This is a trap,” he declares. “You know that once I shift I’m not going to be willing to roll the dice on ending up in a non-agonizing human shape again.”

“It’s absolutely a trap,” Minseok agrees. “Or you can think of it as a bribe.”

Jongdae glares up at him for a moment longer, then sighs. “I really have to have that cave air.” 

  
  
  


Baekhyun is so happy to see Jongdae and show off his cave of sparkly wonders that Jongdae feels bad for not having visited sooner. But the air in the cave is perfect, exactly what he craved. And he must admit that he’s so much more comfortable with the lumps carried within this much larger body. 

He’d gotten fairly lucky and had ended up with one just barely distorting his shoulder and the other one nudging against his belly. It’s the surface of his body that feels sensations, so with less of that stretched around the lumps it feels less like something’s fluttering inside him and more like someone’s tickling his shoulder or his belly. That’s an annoying sensation (and will surely become more so as the thrashing around increases) but at least it’s not nearly so  _ creepy. _

So he’s in the best spirits he’s been in since the beach trip, prowling beside Yixing in unicorn form and Baekhyun as an upsized orangutan with glowing orange fur bright enough to illuminate the tunnels they’re traversing. Jongin and Taekwoon had joined them, the smoky barghest and the stony gargoyle blending into the shadows rather than reflecting Baekhyun’s light like Jongdae’s golden feathers and Yixing’s pale coat.

“And down this way, there are sapphires but on this end they’re rubies! Kyungsoo told me they’re the same thing, really, just different colors. Isn’t that silly? You could say ‘blue ruby’ and that would be right, or ‘red sapphire.’ But people don’t say that and a lot of gemcutters would get annoyed with someone using the ‘wrong’ words!”

The chattering light ape is an excellent distraction and Jongdae basks in just enjoying time with his friends. They tease each other and collectively mock the magicfolk they love, easy camaraderie flowing in and out of him like the moist, earthy air he’s absorbing with relish. They give him a good half hour just to absorb what he craved, then the questions begin as Jongdae knew they would.

“So… have you thought about names?”

“I call them Hanta and Ebola.”

Baek huffs. “You can’t call them that after they’re out,” 

“Yeah. Those are clearly girls’ names. What if they’re boys?” Jongin chimes in.

Jongdae laughs. “Um. Maybe Anthrax and Typhus?”

Yixing gives him a judging look. “You haven’t even thought about non-infectious names?”

Jongdae shakes his head. “To be honest, I sort of forgot they needed actual names. Since we choose our own, I guess I sort of thought they’d either already have names or choose for themselves.”

“They will need names,” Yixing states firmly. “Have you asked Minseok if he has any ideas?”

Jongdae snorts. “He sort of didn’t really get that they’re going to still be ours after they’re out of me until a month ago. So I doubt he’s given it any thought.”

“Humans like to name their offspring after their ancestors,” Baekhyun offers. “Kyungsoo said his moms combined an old name from each of their families. They wanted him to be connected that way since he was adopted.”

“I know Minseok’s parents’ names,” Jongdae says thoughtfully.

But Yixing shakes his head. “Some people consider it bad luck to name a child after a living relative. If one of Minseok’s fathers is a witch, he’s likely to be superstitious.”

Jongdae can’t really frown with a beak but the corners of his mouth become tight anyway. “Hmm. Well, Min’s parents are both excited to be grandparents and sorry they can’t do much to help right now. They want to buy a bunch of baby stuff but they’ll come out much bigger than that and we’re not sure how developed they’ll actually be. Min has promised them plenty of baby-sitting time and that they can shop their hearts out once we know what the lumps will actually need, but maybe they’d be excited to choose names.”

“Those are one-size-fits-all,” Jongin agrees. “But won’t Minseok want to choose?”

Jongdae huffs, thinking of the poor beleaguered mage that is about to voluntarily become anemic so Jongdae can play gryphpire. “Honestly, I think he’d be relieved to have one less thing to think about.”

“I’m excited to meet the little darlings, too,” Yixing says. “Now that you’re more comfortable, I can help them grow even faster.”

Jongdae stops walking.

The rest of the group takes another few steps without him until they realize he’s not just lagging behind.

“You’ve been helping the lumps grow?” Jongdae asks, rather wishing he had teeth to grit.

The unicorn nods. “Of course,” he says. “I mean, you told me you wanted your own body back as soon as possible. So I’ve been helping whenever I have the time to visit.”

Jongdae blinks twice, once with his eyelids and once with the thin white membrane that swipes sideways over his eyes.

“I… feel like I should be upset about this. I’m surprised I’m not sobbing. Yesterday I cried because Minseok moved the book I was reading from the bed to the nightstand right beside the bed. You just told me you’ve been messing with my stuff much more than that, but all I feel is relieved.” 

The corners of Jongdae’s mouth tighten again at his subconscious attempt to smile. “Please, continue as much as you want—the less of Minseok’s blood I have to drink, the better.”

The unicorn does a happy little prance as the other familiars visibly relax. 

“I don’t think it’s actually possible to be upset with Yixing,” Baekhyun laughs. “Maybe you could help me wake Kyungsoo up in the morning. He always throws rocks at me.”

Jongin snorts. “That’s because you jump up and down on top of him in your squirrel monkey form and shine as bright as you can right into his eyes, demanding he wake up and kiss his own personal sunshine.”

“I would throw rocks, too,” Taekwoon says with a grimace. “I wake Hakyeon up with coffee.”

Jongin grimaces as well. “Coffee smells like poison. I just rub Chanyeol’s shoulders.”

“I cover Myeonnie’s face with bunny kisses,” Yixing offers.

“It’s obviously different now, but I used to sing to Minseok,” Jongdae volunteers. “He’d do his best to smother me with a pillow without moving much or opening his eyes, and I’d laugh and wiggle around until he woke up enough to appreciate the fact that we were both naked.” He smiles internally at the memory of transforming his mage from grumpy to gasping every morning, even if their appetite for frequent bonding is why he’s in his current predicament.

Jongin, Yixing, and even Taekwoon give him knowing smiles of their own.

Baekhyun blinks. “Wait, so you all not only don’t have to dodge fistfuls of pebbles, you all get to bond first thing in the morning?”

All the other familiars nod.

“Huh,” the glowing ape says, stroking his chin. “I should find out if Kyungsoo likes coffee.”


	5. Deliverance

Bribing Jongdae to shift to his power form is both the best and worst idea Minseok’s ever had. On the one hand, his familiar is much more comfortable. Even though he whines about it, consuming the thirty milliliters of blood Yixing carefully collects from Minseok every morning is giving him a lot more essence, and thanks to the elemental’s less-absorbent “stomach” it incorporates slowly over the course of the next twenty-four hours. This has done wonders to give Jongdae more stable moods and  _ much _ more energy. 

But on the other hand, Jongdae has been using his energy to literally nest. 

“I need more blankets, and they have to be the same shade of yellow as the plague blankets Yixing is knitting,” Jongdae informs Minseok one morning. 

The earth elemental usually sits with Jongdae and knits for a few hours after drawing Minseok’s blood, and his latest project is a pair of upsized baby blankets with black biohazard symbols knit into them. Taking Jongdae’s frustrated classification of the lumps and turning it into something warm and welcoming pleases Yixing so much that he chuckles intermittently the entire time he’s working on them.

“Okay,” Minseok says, because there’s really no other acceptable answer. “Maybe Yixing could give me a scrap of yarn so I can use it to color-match.”

“Yes, good,” Jongdae says as Yixing nods his agreement. “And I also need more cushions to shred. I’ve used all of ours but it’s still not fluffy enough.”

The gryphon had indeed shredded any remotely-soft thing in the tower he could get his talons on, prompting Minseok to hastily pack up anything in that category he cared about and Gate it to his parents before it could catch the broody familiar’s eye. He had sacrificed a few old hoodies and a ratty sweater to the cause because Jongdae had stated that the lumps needed to be welcomed by something of their other father’s and Minseok had been powerless to say no to that.

Their sofa had been flat-out destroyed, pieces arranged in an arc from wall to wall, transforming a rather inconvenient corner of their tower into a rounded wedge-shaped space that to Minseok resembles a military bunker but which Jongdae insists is the nest into which he will erupt the lumps. The way he says this makes Minseok feel rather like he should reinforce the couch-chunk walls with heaps of sandbags.

Instead, he has been commissioned as Head Nest Materials Procurer by General Jongdae, and he does his best to fulfill his duties well.

“You know, I could just bring you the fluff that’s inside cushions—” 

“No,” Jongdae dismisses flatly. “I need to shred them, Minseok. To make them the perfect texture for our lumps.”

“Okay,” Minseok says, because it’s gentler than “Yes, Sir!” and therefore is less likely to provoke his familiar’s ire.

“And we need curtains,” Jongdae continues. “Long ones. From the ceiling to the top of our nest.”

“Alright.”

“But not thick heavy ones, Minseok. Floaty, gauzy ones. We need  _ air. _ ”

“Of course.” 

Minseok pulls out his phone to make a detailed list of the gryphon’s demands, unwilling to risk forgetting something or bringing the wrong thing. 

“And we also need water.” Jongdae tilts his head, gazing thoughtfully at the ceiling.

“Like a fountain?” Minseok suggests.

“Oh!” Jongdae reaches to nibble at Minseok’s hair with his beak, the closest he can get to a kiss. “You’re so smart. And handsome. When I get these lumps out of me, you won’t leave the bed for days.”

“My poor dick,” Minseok chuckles. That cream Junmyeon had prescribed had sadly been almost used up—yet one more reason Minseok is fine with a couch that’s in pieces. At least his junk will remain intact.

“Your dick will only be peripherally involved,” Jongdae informs him. “I have a lot of topping to do to even things out again.”

Minseok snorts. “Fair enough,” he agrees. He’ll have to ask Jun for more of that cream—hopefully it’s effective in more than one place. 

  
  
  


Over a month has passed since Jongdae finally finished setting up the perfect nest. He spends most of his time in it now, the lumps bulging ridiculously from shoulder and abdomen thanks to Yixing’s daily efforts. And they’re constantly thumping, so Jongdae usually can’t think of anything else besides the beings that seem about to tear themselves free at any moment.

But the nights are his favorite, because Minseok is there with him. Sure, he’s at Jongdae’s beck and call during the day and he usually ends up taking a short nap in the nest with the gryphon—one of the biggest symptoms of anemia is fatigue, and it’s thanks to Junmyeon’s supplements that the mage isn’t more exhausted and irritable.

At night, though, Minseok sleeps. For a good eight hours in a row, once his internal clock stopped waking him up out of habit of needing to provide his familiar with more essence. Drinking Min’s blood is gross but there’s no arguing with the results. 

And as his mage sleeps curled between the gryphon’s feathery front legs, Jongdae watches over him. His broodiness has latched onto this soft, susceptible target in lieu of the yet-to-erupt lumps. Jongdae just wants to cuddle him all day but instead he sends the human on increasingly-ridiculous quests, ones both of them know are entirely nonsensical. He can’t wait to have his own mind back as well as his body.

But this is nice, having Minseok sleeping against him, a bit paler than usual and with track marks down his arms but still wholly beautiful. He’s the prettiest human. Truly Jongdae’s “gorgeous little battlemage.” And he’s so, so exhausted. Jongdae has been compulsively nibbling his hair for hours and he hasn’t reacted at all.

But Minseok certainly reacts when Jongdae screeches in pain and shock just over his head.

The mage is on his feet within seconds, eyelids still puffy with sleep and parted only slightly as Minseok fumbles to grab Jongdae’s thrashing head.

“Dae! Tell me, Dae. Is this it? Do you need Junmyeon?”

“I fucking  _ need _ the lumps not to— _ ow—” _

And then Jongdae’s ripped into shapelessness.

Someone is screaming. Beneath that, there’s babbling and sniffling but also so much  _ pressure, _ Jongdae’s surface won’t reform for fear of bursting and more voices are there, someone’s repeating his mage’s name and another is— 

“Jongdae. You’re alright. Stop trying to reform—yes, I know it hurts. Let it hurt, Jongdae.”

Except it doesn’t hurt it’s fucking  _ agony _ and it can only mean he’s dying, he’s ruptured and dying like a punctured balloon and he—

“Jongdae. Focus. They will emerge on their own if you relax enough to let them.”

How can Jongdae relax when he’s fucking  _ dying—  _

“Dae.”

_ Minseok. _

“Dae, I’m right here. You’re not coming apart. You’re holding together but you need to soften a bit, let yourself be torn. I’m so sorry it hurts, my Dae. But it will be over sooner if you don’t fight it. Please, Dae.”

“That’s it, Jongdae. Ride the rhythm. Relax until you absolutely can’t take the sensation, then tighten as little as possible. You won’t diffuse. You’re still whole, just shapeless. That’s it, yes. Good. Now relax.”

This voice is mesmerizing, pulling Jongdae in more than the pain or fear. Yixing does not lie. Yixing is not lying. Jongdae must still be whole, he can allow himself to be distorted. 

“Good, Jongdae. Yes. Almost there.”

There’s a sickening sensation that’s rather like turning inside-out. Something threatens to peel away from him and he panics, trying to gather it back to himself.

“No, Dae, let it go. Let it out so you can be free again.”

Free? 

“Yes Jongdae. The lumps are in you but they aren’t you. Release them and be wholly yourself.”

_ Myself. _ Jongdae wants to be himself and whole so he resists the urge to gather the thrashing pieces back into his core. He lets them slip away with a scream and his sense of  _ mine! _

“They’re still yours, Dae.  _ Ours.” _

Then he’s shrieking and sobbing but Minseok’s holding him; holding him together as Jongdae digs claw-less fingers into Minseok’s shoulders, closes his beak-less jaws over the tendon of his neck.

Minseok hisses but doesn’t pull away, remaining wrapped sturdily around Jongdae, murmuring reassurances.

“Minseok,” Jongdae gasps, pulling away from his neck to find his lips. “Min, I need you. Need to be in you.”

“I’m yours, Dae,” Minseok laughs. “But would you like to meet your lumps before you tie me to the bed?” 

The lumps.  _ His _ lumps.  _ Their lumps. _

He whirls around, still clinging to Minseok but suddenly very anxious to look over the product of his endurance. Junmyeon and Yixing are each cradling a small child wrapped in soft yellow blankets with plague symbols knitted within. They’re observing Jongdae and Minseok calmly, dark eyes intense beneath hair black as Minseok’s. But their ears are Jongdae’s—the one with the familiar’s sharper features and upturned lips has black leonine ears swivelling to catch every sound, while the one with Minseok’s cautious poker face has black gryphon ear tufts lifted in curiosity or alarm.

“They’re beautiful,” Jongdae breathes, reaching for his lumps—his  _ children. _ And Minseok’s—it’s so obvious they belong to the mage as well.

“They are,” Minseok agrees, accepting the bundle Junmyeon hands him with a teary smile. 

“Two healthy boys,” Junmyeon announces. “Well developed, and evidently Minseok’s to the core—they’ve sorted out Jongdae’s spirit forms into their matching parts. One’s got both the lion’s ears and his tail, the other has wholly avian features.”

The mage cradles the feline child to his chest, pressing a kiss against his hair as Jongdae marvels at the avian child in his own arms. 

“This one’s definitely beloved of air,” Jongdae murmurs as his own magic resonates with the boy’s. “Our sweet Sehun.” 

Minseok’s fathers had suggested the names of several wizards and mages in their family trees, male and female, and Minseok himself had, true to form, organized them into tidy lists. This name was at the top for Male Air Hybrid and Jongdae likes how it sounds on his tongue. 

“And this one belongs to water,” Minseok responds, eyes starry. “Our darling Zitao.” The top name for Male Water Hybrid seems to suit the curious child and Minseok’s smile grows larger. “They’re your kiddos, too, Dae, if we ended up with a cat who likes water.”

“They are,” Jongdae agrees, grinning as the one in his arms flattens his avian ear tufts in dismissal, giving Jongdae an unimpressed look before cuddling into his shoulder and closing his eyes.

“They’ll sleep for several hours,” Yixing smiles. “It’s hard work making one’s way into the world.”

Junmyeon nods. “We’re happy to sit with them. If the two of you have anything that needs to be taken care of.”

The healer’s face is entirely innocent but Yixing’s wearing half a smirk that migrates onto Jongdae’s lips. He kisses the now-sleeping boy he’s holding before handing him back to Yixing, bouncing a bit impatiently while Minseok relinquishes the feline child.

Then he drags his chuckling mage off to the bedroom, determined to hear someone else’s wails for a change.

  
  
  
  


When Junmyeon had said the newly-erupted hybrids would be the equivalent of human three-year-olds, Minseok had really only interpreted that in terms of size. He had not thought about the fact that three-year-olds can walk, not to mention run or climb. And he hadn’t realized they’d pick up language quite so quickly, even when Yixing had explained that they’d been hearing it for months as lumps.

“Sehun!” Minseok calls, just missing the black feathery tail as the giggling child scales a craggy outcropping near Hakyeon and Taekwoon’s beach. “That’s dangerous! Please come down before you hurt yourself.”

“No!” Sehun shouts gleefully. It’s his very favorite word.

Then Minseok’s heart stops entirely as the child flings himself from the highest peak, twice as high as Minseok’s head.

Sehun only laughs as the wind picks up, catching the feathers trailing from his arms and the wide spread of his tail. He’s carried by the sudden breeze to tumble gently into the sand, rolling a bit as he impacts with a tiny “oof!”

“Se _ hun!”  _ Minseok bellows, running to the still-giggling boy. “We do  _ not _ practice our magic without permission!”

Sehun only laughs as his Papa scoops him up, more than a little concerned at how quickly the child’s ability to puff unwanted bits of food across the table has transitioned to gusting enough air to embolden him to attempt to actually fly. Minseok has no doubt that it’s only a matter of time before the little avian manages to properly succeed.

But at least there’s a flying parent to deal with a flying child. There’s no countering their little lion’s gift.

As if invoked by Minseok’s thoughts, the world seems to ripple right before going completely still. Minseok’s caught mid-stride, eyes locked on the pair further down the beach. Jongdae’s stock-still as well, glaring at Minseok as if to place all the blame squarely on his shoulders. Which Minseok supposes it technically is.

“More powerful than their parents” was a bit of an understatement by the cleric. The little family hangs out with Hakyeon frequently to give their blustery child a mentor to teach him to harness his power safely, i.e. without creating windstorms that disturb the weather patterns of the entire planet. 

But there’s no one else on the entire planet like Zitao.

According to the ever-knowledgeable Junmyeon, time is something that flows continuously as a mighty river, sweeping great and small along with its inexorable advancement.

That is, unless their little TaoTao decides to freeze it just as his Papa can freeze a normal river.

And their little TaoTao is more than a bit mischievous. At the moment, he’s scooping all the ice cream snacks from the picnic cooler, tearing each one from its package and gobbling it down. The children must eat to nourish their human bodies and continue to grow. But their elemental side has strong preferences for what to eat, and Tao loves frozen things.

One-month-old hybrids are terrible at sharing. But at least they’re also not capable of holding time frozen for very long. Tao has only just shoved the third ice cream in his face when Jongdae’s on him.

“You’re in time out, Mister,” Jongdae lectures, hoisting the now-crying child to sit on a beach towel. “Three minutes while the rest of us eat ice cream without you since you evidently don’t want to enjoy it with us.”

“I dooooo!” Tao wails. He hates time out with a passion, but his only recourse of freezing time for everyone else, too, only makes the punishment drag on. 

“Then why did you try to eat them all without us?”

“Because I really, really like ice cream,” he says, as if this should excuse everything.

“I like ice cream, too!” Sehun calls as Minseok carries him toward the rest of their family. The airy child actually prefers whipped cream, but like all siblings everywhere, Sehun wants to share in whatever his brother has.

He squirms and Minseok sets him down, allowing the partly-feathered child to run to tackle his partly-furred brother.

“TaoTao, if you don’t share, ghosts will get you,” Sehun says, sounding very serious.

Tao’s tears become wails. 

Minseok and Jongdae roll their eyes in a synchronization born of frequent practice.

“Hunnie, it’s not nice to scare your brother.” 

The feline boy had been easily convinced that his brother’s developing wind-manipulation abilities were evidence of the supernatural spirits in the not-at-all-relaxing bedtime story Uncle Baek had told them. He’s terrified of ghosts even though his parents have told him over and over it’s just Sehun being a little brat. And since Sehun can’t magically counter his brother’s time-stopping and subsequent constant getting of his own way, he’s taken to emotionally manipulating the sensitive boy to ensure he literally gets his slice of the pie.

On the one hand, Minseok is so proud of both of them. The fact that Sehun put the pieces together enough to take advantage of his twin is impressive for a child that has existed for such a short time. And Tao’s ability to freeze an ever-growing bubble of time around himself before letting it snap back into the natural flow is mind-boggling. Junmyeon had tried to explain it with diagrams and charts and equations that used few recognizable numbers and even fewer recognizable letters. It made Minseok totally fine with not at all understanding how it works. He’s just so impressed that Tao does all of that instinctively.

On the other hand, he wishes that his children would agree not to use their gifts for mischief.

“Boys,” he chides. “Families don’t fight each other. We work together.”

The boys look at each other, somehow trading information in that uncanny way of twins everywhere. And Minseok is suddenly very sure he’s planted a very dangerous seed.

  
  
  


_ “Dae!” _

Jongdae has heard his mage make all kinds of noises but he has never once heard Minseok  _ shriek. _ It launches him out of the tower with lightning-enhanced speed, a thing he hadn’t even been aware that he could do.

He accelerates to the speed of electricity itself when he sees why exactly his mage surely shredded his vocal cords in panic. And that’s how they discover that their precocious son is not quite freezing time, just slowing it way the fuck down.

Tao is falling from the sky, high enough that his scream is barely audible. Minseok’s reaching for their son with a corkscrew of ice obviously designed to safely slow Tao’s descent to the ground. Sehun’s reaching for his brother, too, unable to both glide effectively and reach his tiny fingers out for his twin’s flailing form.

It seems to take forever as Jongdae launches into the air on gryphon’s wings, every downstroke taking impossibly long to propel him toward his child. His keen eagle eyes can clearly see the terror on Zitao’s face. The tears being wrenched from Sehun’s eyes.

He can even see Minseok’s ice spiral growing, a father’s desperation somehow forming ice lightning-fast thanks to the bond he and Jongdae share. But Jongdae is air, the energy of air, and like pure electricity he darts directly toward the pull of his charges.

Zitao’s ability to (mostly) halt time has been improving along with his brother’s ability to get the wind to carry him. So by the time the boy’s hold on the flowing river snaps, it only takes Jongdae two more wingbeats to catch him in careful talons.

He hovers long enough for Sehun to drop onto his back, burying his sobbing face in Jongdae’s feathers and twining his limbs into the leather straps of the gryphon’s harness.

“You boys are  _ so _ grounded,” Jongdae growls as he carries his troublesome young to their emotional Papa. “Literally grounded. Hunnie, no more flying until we can trust you not to endanger yourself or your brother. If you lift your toes off the ground even a finger’s width I am clipping your wings. And TaoTao, you are one lucky son of a mage. But if Daddy can catch you like this, that means I can tan your tufted tail if you freeze time for anything other than training, do you hear me?”

“Yes, Daddy,” the twins chorus tearfully as Minseok reaches up to take Zitao from the gryphon’s grip.

“Tao,” Minseok rasps, wrapping the boy as close to himself as humanly possible. 

A moment later, Jongdae has a sniffling Sehun cradled against his own human form.

He and Minseok move toward each other in unison, trapping their children between them as they share a relieved kiss.

“I’m getting a leash for our little kitten,” Minseok grumbles in a voice like broken glass. “And those ankle-leash things for our baby bird.”

“Jesses,” Jongdae supplies. “The indignant part of me that wants to chide you for treating your children like animals is currently buried under panic and the thought that if that’s how they behave, that’s what they deserve.”

The quivering twins start peeping a chorus of apologies, Zitao peppering his Papa’s injured throat with kisses as Sehun clings to both Jongdae and his brother as if to make sure both are real and safe.

“We should move into a cave,” Minseok whispers. 

“Or build one of those mesh-roofed aviaries,” Jongdae contributes.

“A greenhouse with a glass roof.”

“Or we could try to teach our precious boys not to do dangerous things.”

There’s a pause.

“Actually a cave isn’t sounding half-bad,” Jongdae amends.

“I’ll call Kyungsoo. Or rather text him—I’m going to be eating all of the boys’ ice cream in both therapy and punishment.”

“Seems fair to me,” Jongdae agrees.

Tao opens his mouth to protest, thinks better of it, and buries his face in Minseok’s shoulder, reaching out to hold his brother’s hand as their parents carry them safely inside.

  
  
  


Thankfully, the boys had been sufficiently scared by that episode to behave like angels for a while. They’re cooperative and charming when their grandfathers come over to build them a set of bunkbeds of their own, the rapidly growing hybrids soon making family bedsharing entirely unfeasible. The older humans are used to inquisitive youngsters and are way more patient with the constant stereo  _ whys _ than either of their parents are capable of being.

“What’s that?” Sehun asks his Grandpapa, pointing to the tool the mage is using to fasten the bedframe securely together. His silky black eartufts are standing at full alertness as he leans over the construction project, tail feathers spread wide for balance.

“It’s called a ratchet. It helps me tighten these bolts, see?”

“Why do we have to tighten them?”

“So the bed won’t fall apart. You don’t want to land on your brother in the middle of the night, do you?”

The mischievous avian tilts his head, hiding his smile in the face of his brother’s glare.

“You better not fall on me,” Tao says, leonine ears flat and tufted tail swishing threateningly behind him. “I will stick your time in the air and yell for Daddy.”

“I’ll yell for Papa,” Sehun counters.

“Then your Daddy  _ and _ your Papa are both likely to yell at  _ you,” _ their Granddad points out, holding the upright sections of the bunk bed steady so his husband can bolt them in place.

“Nooo,” the twins whine in unison, turning pleading faces to their parents in way-too-cute defense against an entirely theoretical event.

Minseok snorts and rolls his eyes but he’s saved from having to respond.

“Then be good for your grandfathers and help build your new bed properly,” Jongdae’s sternly-amused voice calls from the kitchen where he’s preparing lunch for the boys.

“We’re  _ always _ good for our grandfathers,” the boys chirp, all big eyes and sweet smiles.

“You’d better be,” Minseok says as Jongdae sets two bowls onto the table. “Come and eat, then you can be good helpers some more.”

The boys scamper to the table with cheers of enthusiasm, eagerly spooning icecream smothered in whipped cream into their happy faces. Their grandparents look on in amusement, still unused to the fact that this is considered a healthy diet for the non-human pair. 

They eat quickly, even going so far as taking their bowls to the sink and washing their sticky hands without being prompted before skipping back to the mostly-assembled bedframe to help with final touches. Minseok lifts impressed brows, then scrunches his face in mock resentment when his Papa gives him a wink.

“Can we just leave them with your parents indefinitely?” Jongdae murmurs into Minseok’s ear moments before his familiar’s arms wrap around his waist from behind.

Minseok snorts. “You would miss them,” he says, leaning back against Jongdae’s shoulder. “You’re gonna miss them even when they’re across the room instead of squished up against us.”

“They were literally inside me for almost a year, Min, give a guy some time to adjust.”

“They’ve been out of you for almost three months.”

“It doesn’t feel like more than three days.”

“I know,” Minseok agrees. “They’re so big now, though. I’m still annoyed that Junmyeon said they’ll both be at least ten centimeters taller than us.”

“So unfair, after we did all that work to feed them so well.”

“Seriously.”

The pair of them watch the older and younger generation collaborate peacefully for several long moments. In another few months the boys will be developed enough to start school with trained instructors and safety gear and so on instead of frantic parents and their friend network trying to keep the foolish things from harm. Minseok can’t wait. Jongdae suffered way too much to bring their kiddos into this world safely. They are not allowed to leave it until long after the bonded pair are gone.

Shopping for school supplies turns out to be another grandparent-grandchild bonding experience, Minseok and Jongdae strolling along holding hands behind the excited kids and their indulgent grandfathers. The boys, both already taller than the average kindergartner, each select a brightly-colored backpack, Sehun’s with a fluffy white puppy’s face peering happily from the back and Tao’s with a corresponding panda bear cub.

They stuff the bags full with lunch boxes, notebooks, crayons, and the like, only bickering occasionally for a change. Then they race toward the food court, Minseok enduring a barista’s judgement for ordering a venti cup of chocolate syrup-laced milkfoam and giving it to a delighted child.

“He’s half air elemental,” he sheepishly tries to explain as he pays for the foam along with his own iced Americano. “It’s good for him. I swear.”

The barista only raises a brow.

It’s an endearing sight to see the twins seated side by side, one with his foamed milk, the other with his frozen lemonade. They chat happily with the rest of their family as they sip, occasionally switching cups on some unspoken twin signal to sample each other’s drink.

Their smiles are adorable enough to distract Minseok from the endless stream of questions the boys ask about anything and everything they see, hear, smell, taste, or touch. He understands that they’re constantly learning, that they’re not actually the five-year-olds they resemble, that so much of the world is new to them and that it’s his parental duty to explain as much as he can. But it’s exhausting trying to keep up with their accelerated development, and he’s well and truly relieved that their first day of school is only another month away.

To be able to go on patrols again, just himself and Jongdae, free in the air with only the sounds of nature in his ears. To kick a wyvern’s ass or two, to read a book without pictures, to make out with his familiar in the middle of the day without feeling like some sort of fugitive. 

Minseok loves his children, of course he does. But he loves his familiar, too, and the life they shared just between the two of them. It will be paradise to get to have a piece of that back. A nice breath of balance.

He’s distracted from his thoughts when his phone buzzes in his pocket. It’s the continuous buzz of an incoming call rather than the short burst that indicates a text, and Minseok pulls it out with more than a little concern. The fact that it’s Kyungsoo’s name on his screen of all people makes his brows lift a little more, and he almost knocks his chair over in his haste to stand up and take the call, finger plugged in his other ear to block out any distractions.

“Min?” Kyungsoo’s voice is shaky in a way he’s never heard it before. “Min, you have to help me.”

“Of course, Soo. Anything. What happened? What do you need?”

“Asylum,” Kyungsoo declares. “Possibly forever.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I fucked up,” Kyungsoo mourns. “Baekhyun is pregnant.”

Much to the alarm of the rest of his family, for a good ten minutes, all Minseok can do is laugh.

  
  
  


According to human tradition, a child’s first day of school is special, and Jongdae will always treasure the photos on his phone of his kiddos standing hand-in-hand, backpacks on, ready to step through the Gate to their new classroom. 

“Me against my brother,” Minseok murmurs at Jongdae’s side as they watch the boys disappear into the swirl of magic. “But me and my brother against the world.”

“The world had better watch out,” Jongdae agrees. 

“Thank fuck Myeon thinks we’re only having one,” Kyungsoo grumbles from where he’s slumped at the kitchen table. He’s a little early for what he calls their daily “strategy meeting” but which is basically just an hour of the disgruntled witch muttering obscenities under his breath over a mug of strong coffee.

“I can’t say for sure until they’re further along,” Junmyeon cautions. “Fingers crossed it’s only one for us, too.”

The cleric had barely confirmed Baekhyun’s pregnancy when his own familiar had proudly presented him with a lump to examine, so their Moaning Mothers Club (as Jongdae has named it) now has three members if he counts Minseok, who vary rarely does any of the moaning.

“There better only be one.  _ We _ didn’t fuck like actual rabbits,” Kyungsoo growls. “Unlike  _ some _ couples. Who are to blame for all of this nonsense in the first place.” 

Minseok shrugs. “Once they’re out it’s not so bad. Especially since yours probably won’t be able to fly.”

“Knock on fucking wood,” Kyungsoo grumbles, rapping against the breakfast table that is the main thing keeping him from slumping to the floor. 

“Don’t talk about wood,” Junmyeon groans. “I can’t even feel mine anymore, speaking of rabbits.”

Jongdae snorts. “Amateurs,” he chides.

This earns him a pleased kiss from Minseok and a pair of glares from the other two parents-to-be.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Junmyeon asks him pointedly.

“Yeah, there are still more lives for you to ruin,” Kyungsoo adds. “Jongin and Taekwoon aren’t knocked up yet. Go corrupt them with your notions about all-day bonding.”

Jongdae only grins at his mage. “They’re gonna stay that way, because their magicfolk are happy to top less often than they bottom.”

“I would have happily traded off if Baek had ever wanted to!” Kyungsoo protests. “He just climbs on top of me and what am I supposed to do, say no to that ass? He’s really hot.”

“And Yixing tops plenty,” Junmyeon defends. “He’s just really good at making things grow and your kids are adorable. Once he decided he wanted one it’s not like I could have done anything to stop him. I mean, he did ask me first, but what was I gonna do, say no to that face? He’s really cute.”

Laughing at the beleaguered pair, Jongdae kisses his own magicfolk before Gating off to meet the rest of his familiar pals at Jongin’s. Chanyeol loves gaming and hence has the nicest television, thus their movie marathons are generally held at their place.

“Finally stopped bonding long enough to spare some time for your forgotten friends?” Baekhyun chides when Jongdae steps through. “You’re going to end up giving the twins a sibling.”

“No way,” Jongdae scoffs, taking his seat on the oversized sofa between Taekwoon and Baekhyun. “I was late because I was mocking your magicfolk.”

“Oh, in that case, carry on,” Baek says, waving the remote imperiously at Jongdae. “He’s totally right that it is all your fault though.”

“I didn’t  _ make _ you bond with him every morning, I merely pointed out that it was possible. And I certainly didn’t tell you to bond both before  _ and _ after breakfast.”

“I’m not complaining,” Baekhyun says. “Well, not yet. I’ll have words for you when this thing is bigger than a basketball though.”

“I can’t wait,” Jongdae snarks. 

“Me either,” Yixing chimes in. “I’m growing my little dear as fast as I can. As soon as he or she has emerged, I’ll help yours grow, too, Baekkie.” 

“Eh, I only have the one and my power form still has proper arms for witch cuddling,” Baekhyun dismisses. “Unlike some people, I won’t be such a whiny baby about nurturing new life within my body.”

Jongin shudders. “No fucking way,” he says. “Taek, are you gonna leave me as the only non-procreator?”

Taekwoon shakes his head vigorously. “Your kids are cute,” he assures Jongdae. “They’re welcome to visit whenever. But I don’t want my own.”

“Chanyeol basically  _ is _ a kid,” Jongin huffs. “But so am I. So it’s for the best that we don’t have to try to raise one.” His handsome face lights up. “But we are thinking of getting a puppy! A little poodle. We just can’t decide on what color. Or what to name it.”

Baekhyun sucks in a breath. “I want a puppy!” He whips out his phone and they can all hear it ring once before Kyungsoo’s harried greeting exits the speaker.

“Soo, we need to get a puppy.”

“A  _ what?” _

“A puppy,” Baekhyun coos. “For practice.”

“No.”

“Please,” Baekhyun wheedles, drawing the word out into a melody of desire. “You want me to be happy, don’t you?”

There’s a moment of silence, then a muttered, “Fuck.” This is quickly (and unfairly) followed by, “This is Jongdae’s fault, isn’t it?”

The group erupts into laughter at Jongdae’s noisy protestations of innocence, but it eventually dies down enough for Jongin to admit he planted the idea. The laughter returns full force when the annoyed witch informs Jongin that he hopes he’s next to get knocked up before cutting off the call.

Baekhyun and Jongin start an intense discussion about the merits of poodles versus corgis as the opening credits flash across the big screen. Jongdae just cuddles closer to his best friend, patting the bump protruding from his biceps. He doesn’t have any desire for a puppy when he already has a cat-eyed mage at home. His frosty little kitten, whom he’ll soon get to spend more alone time with.

Two years ago he’d have been appalled at the idea that he’d be looking forward to hanging out with any magicfolk, much less his very own mage. His very own mage, who will probably squeeze Jongdae’s hand a little too tight as they wait for their children to gate home from school that afternoon. Who will read them a bedtime story, doing all the silly voices and everything. And who will come to Jongdae afterwards just as reverently as he always has, to so easily offer himself however Jongdae wants him.

Bonding with a magicfolk hasn’t been at all what Jongdae had once feared. It hasn’t gone as he’d hoped, either, but he hasn’t been diminished by agreeing to share his magic with someone. Belonging to someone else hadn’t caused Jongdae to lose himself. And he’s found so much more than he ever had when he’d been determined to remain independent of everyone around him.

He’s always had his elemental family, of course, but now he also has a family that he made himself. That he and his mage, his Minseok, have made together. He loves seeing himself in Sehun’s eyes, in Tao’s smile. He loves seeing Minseok in them, too. Because an elemental only lives as long as they choose to, and Jongdae feels a deep satisfaction that long after he’s followed his mage into whatever lies beyond, a beautiful blend of their love will live on in a pair of beautiful hybrids. If he and Minseok are really lucky, perhaps they’ll get to build a set of bunkbeds someday with their own grandchildren.

Jongdae may not have chosen to coalesce with a nagging need to bond with a magicfolk. He may not have chosen to become a parent. But he did choose Minseok, and that has proven time and time again to be the best possible choice he ever could have made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Junmyeon and Yixing's little dear turns out to be a little deer, so that's what Yixing names the jackalope hybrid. His affinity for earth magic allows him to alter gravity in specific locations, eventually becoming precise enough that he can lift a single Star Wars mint-condition collectible figurine from a high shelf and float it over to himself to play with.
> 
> **Baekhyun and Kyungsoo end up with a rather scaly son inheriting the witch's occasionally-dour appearance and the fire elemental's occasionally-goofy demeanor. His fire affinity lets him literally breathe it, so while he has a perfectly serviceable name, his parents mostly call him Crispy, which eventually gets shortened to Cris.
> 
> **Jongin and Chanyeol and Hakyeon and Taekwoon manage not to have any kids, but both couples get dogs. Jongin caves to Chanyeol's suggestion that they name their poodle after a long-dead musician, while Hakyeon teases Taekwoon fondly about merely naming theirs after the month they got him. They all turn out to be very attentive, indulgent uncles, which is just as well since the four hybrid kiddos need a lot of looking after.


End file.
